Resolution on a Lonely Planet
by FrauUlrike
Summary: Vegeta attempts to recover from his horrible assault by the human race. A story about loneliness and healing. Sequel to 'I Hate Being Right.' Warnings: violence, abuse, PTSD, mention of rape
1. Found

_-This story takes place directly after 'I Hate Being Right.' It is a sequel to one of the most violent and disturbing DBZ fanfics written, however this story will be a lot slower. This fanfiction will not be as graphic and will not be as quick-moving as its original. Expect a lot of angst, sadness, and character analyses-_

Warnings: character Death, blood, violence, mention of rape, abuse, and torture

The light forest had never been so silent before. In fact, the warriors of Earth could not recall any other time when the animals had hid, shocked and frightened by the dreadful violence that had just occurred. The birds and squirrels and wildlife did not understand the cold horror that overtook their home, but deep down remained quiet as if to offer a moment of sad silence for the fallen.

The men who were so trained to fight and meet death head-on could not move; their eyes transfixed on what lay before them. Even though they all had the energy to fend off the growing cold, every warrior standing in the awful wooded area shivered and jerked with tension as chills rushed through their bones.

The short, bald earthling tore his eyes from the unbelievable sight and gazed up at his long-time friend. Seeing the haunted shadows in his ever-happy buddy's eyes made Krillin's stomach lurch with unsettling fright. He had never seen such an expression on Goku's usually smiling face.

"What happened here?" The muscular Earth saiyajin whispered.

Vegeta, the Prince of all Saiyajins, lay at their feet, sprawled and relaxed as if asleep. His arms rested at his sides and his head lulled to the left. His face was calm, but the warriors that stared down at him could not overlook the puddle of blood growing on the rocky soil on which he lay. The small saiyajin was shirtless except for a few strands of material clinging to his neck and upper chest. The skin that was visible to those surrounding him was almost white underneath splatters of blood and black bruises. Goku, Tien, Piccolo, Gohan, and Krillin could hardly draw in breath as they gazed at the blue and purple veins hiding underneath the usually bronze flesh. Gohan found himself clinging to his father's pant-leg as his young six-year-old eyes observed the dark, hideous bruises that marred Vegeta's entire abdomen, neck, and face. Deep cuts and gashes trailed across his body, and rivulets of dried blood stood frozen on his ever-paling skin.

Tears sprang to his eyes. Gohan had seen the worst of any battle against Frieza. He had seen the lizard brutally torture his friends and lick blood that splattered across his face as he ran a horn through Krillin's stomach and beat Vegeta to death. Gohan had even been on the receiving end of the monster's tortures, but there was something incredibly, horribly wrong here. His child mind could not grasp the true horror of this situation, but all of his young senses were screaming that an unimaginable nightmare had just occurred.

Goku slowly glanced over his shoulder, his black eyes gazing at Piccolo, his oldest rival and newest friend. The large Namek gave a slight nod and moved forward, drawing Gohan away from the scene. Goku watched the giant alien pull the boy close to his leg and shield the child from view with his billowing, white cape. Gohan did not fight to continue watching the events unfold. He merely remained quiet and pressed his tear-stained face against his master's purple pant-leg. He had witnessed Vegeta's tragic death only months earlier. Gohan may have been a half-saiyajin warrior, but he was still a child and could not bear to just stand and stare at such violence again.

Goku turned back to the gruesome sight and knelt by the body. His mind flashed back to the awful battle on Namek and his stomach clenched. He had to bury Vegeta himself in the planet's soil, but the saiyajin prince had luckily been wished back with the other victims of Planet Namek. He'd been given a second chance. Yet it appeared that he now had this gift taken from him so soon after being granted life.

The third-class saiyajin cursed quietly to himself and closed his eyes. How could this have happened? Who got close enough to Vegeta to do this and how had no one even noticed? The injuries on the saiyajin's body were not created by the energy of a fighter. No, Vegeta's wounds were harsh, brutal, and primitive; the markings made by crazed men.

Goku remembered sitting at his house with Gohan only an hour earlier. Piccolo had been meditating outside and they all had just finished sparring, getting an early start on their training for the upcoming android battle in three years. Making a foot-long sandwich, Goku was about to shove the whole thing into his stretched mouth when he felt Yamcha's power rise in the far distance of West City. He and Gohan locked eyes in shock and instantly grinned.

"Wow, Yamcha is certainly getting revved up for this battle!" Goku laughed. Shoving the gargantuan sandwich into his jaws, the playful warrior chewed happily. "His power sure went up after his training with King Kai!"

"Just like yours, Daddy," Gohan replied excitedly.

"Hm, I wonder what Tien's power will be like in three years. With the way Yamcha's powerin' up, I wouldn't be surprised if he's already surpassed Tien."

The fiery aura in the saiyajins' minds dimmed slightly and they returned to being easily distracted by their food. Piccolo, however, was finding it extremely hard to concentrate on anything but Yamcha's fading power. The Namek had been forced to train with the scar-faced human for some time on King Kai's planet. He knew that the earthling had improved, but the spike in power was immense, far stronger than Piccolo had ever felt from the meathead fighter. He focused closer on it, seeing the red energy flicker in his mind like a candle.

Face tightening in concentration, the psychic being tried to understand the growing sense of unease in his gut. The namek honestly did not care about the obnoxious human, but he was concerned about the unsettling emotions he was picking up in his mediation. Piccolo was still adjusting to being one of the "good guys," but that didn't mean he particularly liked his allies. He did, however, love the Earth and would be damned if he let anything happen to it. There were still opportunities to rule the planet after all.

Focusing on the environment surrounding Yamcha's settling aura, Piccolo tried to target any other energies nearby. He always disliked trying to pinpoint the average human power level because, honestly, the average human had the same energy level as a large dog or wild cat. The warriors of Earth each had very unique energies that moved and reacted with their personalities. This made them easy to trace. In fact, ever since the arrogant saiyajin prince decided to camp out on Earth, Piccolo found his meditation disrupted a lot as the boisterous energy was always bobbing in and out of his mind. The spoiled, cold-hearted saiyajin wound his energy around his person like a winter coat, always broadcasting his strength and letting all those around him know who was boss.

The namek grumbled in annoyance and went back to his searching. Yamcha's energy. Why had it been so huge and erratic? What were those accompanying emotions that darted into his senses so fervently? It was hard to tell if the weak energies around Yamcha were people or just animals. If there was no one else there, why had the human's power burst forth so wildly? Was he truly just training as Goku had suspected?

Piccolo crossed his beefy arms tightly across his chest and lowered his chin. A chilly breeze blew through the air, but he was not in the least bothered. He had trained his body and mind to ignore the worst of temperature changes, often sitting in the coldest regions of the Antarctic for hours just focusing on the planet. He kept a part of his mind in the same direction as Yamcha, but decided to concentrate more on his mental training in preparation for his next spar against Goku.

About a half hour passed and Goku trotted outside, a satisfied grin on his face. Gohan skipped behind him, eager as always to be near Piccolo.

"Ready for another go?" The friendly saiyajin asked.

One sharp eye opened and the giant namek could not help but smirk at his old rival's innocent face. How a dopey, peace-loving warrior became so powerful was beyond him. Standing, Piccolo was just about to throw his armored cape from his body when a snap of electricity clicked in his brain. Goku and Gohan jerked as they, too, felt the jolting shock of power erupt in their senses. It was Yamcha again…but this time a wave of overwhelming emotions accompanied the raw energy explosion. The three warriors had never felt such rage roll from the human warrior. Goku wasn't even sure it was Yamcha as he was stricken with feelings of remorse, guilt, terror, and outright fury.

"I-I don't sense anyone else with him," Piccolo growled.

Goku remained silent momentarily, his eyes instantly growing sharp and animalistic as he focused all his mental concentration in Yamcha's direction.

"Two humans…and…a weaker power. One that is fading drastically."

"But who could it be?" Gohan demanded, instantly tensing at the thought of one of his friends in trouble.

"I…no…it couldn't be," Goku murmured.

Piccolo turned to his friend, but the third-class saiyajin had already blasted from the ground, leaving a small crater in the dirt. Piccolo and Gohan didn't hesitate and rocketed after the powerful warrior, trying to keep up with his intense speed. Piccolo held onto his turban and squinted in the rushing wind. Golden light emanated from Goku's blurred form, but he was not powering up to super-saiyajin yet. Still, to have such energy so close to use, Piccolo knew that something was definitely not right and the same chilling dread he felt when he first noticed Yamcha's energy bubbled within his stomach. What the hell was happening?

The three warriors made it to West City in about 20 minutes, but Yamcha's power had diminished as soon as it had risen. In fact, it was hard to locate the exact position he had been. West City was one of the largest communities in the area, and Goku, Piccolo, and Gohan did not know where to pinpoint his exact location.

Goku came to an abrupt stop above a heavily wooded area right on the outskirts of the city. The three fighters lowered down to the treetops so as not to scare any passerby who happened to be walking past the beautiful fountain standing directly in front of the forest. Settling on a heavy branch, Piccolo eyed his nervous ally, the green alien instantly on edge at the anxiety in Goku's furrowed face.

"Did you sense someone else with him?" the namek asked softly.

Goku's hands plucked orange leaves from the fall trees in which they perched. He shook his head and seemed to be at battle with himself.

"I thought…I mean I didn't really sense a direct power, but I think Vegeta was with him."

"Vegeta?" Piccolo barked.

Goku nodded and closed his eyes. Overwhelming waves of worry and fear stabbed at the saiyajin's gut and he could not shake the uneasy feeling of dread that crept into his bones. He hadn't actually sensed Vegeta's power, but for some reason, an instinctual scream in the back of his mind told him the prince was in trouble. Perhaps it was a side-effect of their battles against Frieza and the strange visions he had about the tortured Elite after the warrior had died, but Goku was beginning to believe he had a unique mental connection with the prince of all saiyajins.

"But Yamcha's energy faded as soon as it surged," Goku stated more to himself than anyone else. "I want to say he was somewhere around here."

The assumption was answered as a sharp cry resonated throughout the trees below. Piccolo and Goku became blurs as they moved without hesitation, leaving Gohan clinging to a tree branch in shock. Goku eyed a large downhill drop in the middle of the small forest. At the top of the jagged rocks and protruding ground, Krillin's bald head peered over the edge of the steep plummet, as if he didn't dare move to the base of the small Cliffside.

"Krillin!" Gohan cried as he suddenly emerged from the leafy canopy of the trees.

As Goku and Piccolo neared, they followed the monk's line of vision and froze, a wave of vertigo passing through them as they could only stare at the sight below. Hovering about 30 meters from the ground, the warriors found it hard to breathe as absolute shock and disbelief overtook them.

Goku reacted first, racing down to the ground as fast as he could. One knee hit the cold dirt, cracking the earth and creating a small earthquake as he stumbled toward the motionless saiyajin prince.

"Vegeta!" Goku yelled as he reached the shirtless and battered warrior. "My God, Vegeta."

"Goku!"

Tien suddenly appeared in the air and landed next to the orange-clad savior of earth. He circled around to get a better view of the situation and gasped at the sight. All three eyes were wide with outright shock as he gazed at the beaten, pale body staining the fall ground with copious amounts of dark maroon blood. The hulking human found it hard to move as he continued to stare at the unresponsive saiyajin prince. Tien hated Vegeta and despised the little warrior for all the evil he had done, but the gory, torn creature on the ground at his feet was not the fighter he remembered. This was not the crazed, monkey-tailed maniac that had ordered his man, Nappa to kill him, Yamcha, Chaotzu, and Piccolo. Viewing the corpse that lay silently broken on this cold fall day disgusted and unnerved Tien greatly.

Goku reached out and grabbed one of Vegeta's gloveless hands. It was ice cold. Calling his name again, Goku shook the limp arm of one of the last saiyajins. When he received no response, Goku leaned closer and grabbed Vegeta by the chin. His large hands were trembling terribly.

"Come on, Vegeta," Goku hissed. "You just got wished back. Don't die on us again."

How could this have happened? Goku thought back to the purple-haired boy from the future. Vegeta couldn't have died. How had Trunks been born? Why would he never have mentioned this when he came to give Goku his heart medicine?

"It doesn't make sense," Goku whispered as his dark eyes slid to Vegeta's sleeping face. His stomach lurched at the deep bruises that marred his once tan skin and the streams of blood that covered his chin and cheeks. Timidly, Goku pressed two fingers against the side of Vegeta's throat and held his breath. The others circled around him and bit their lips as they watched the scene unfold. Goku remained still for several seconds before lurching forward and slapping Vegeta's right cheek harshly.

"Wake up! VEGETA!" Goku hollered as anger exploded deep inside of his soul. He could hear the others grunt in surprise at his sudden anger, but they made no attempt to stop him. Grabbing Vegeta's face, Goku turned the prince's head to the opposite side to give his other icy cheek a good slap. With a strangled gasp, the large saiyajin fell backwards onto his butt, his fingers flying to his mouth as he stared at the deep, gory streak of flesh and skull missing from the side of the beaten fighter's head.

"Oh my God!" Krillin moaned.

Piccolo's cold eyes stared into the bleeding wound and he growled low in his throat. Anger slowly began to build within him and he turned his face away.

"That is a wound not made from energy," the great namek boomed. Several eyes stared at him curiously. Goku, however, remained seated next to the prince, a hand resting on his still chest. "It appears that Vegeta was shot by a primitive human weapon."

"A gun," Krillin rasped.

Goku shook his head and remained silent as cold anger and pity swept through him. Reaching out, the third-class gently pushed Vegeta's head to the left where it had been when they first arrived. He stood shakily and ran an unsteady hand across his mouth, his eyes unable to tear away from the bloodied mess.

"What happened here?"

He was dimly aware that his son was now hiding behind Piccolo's cape. Good. The poor child had seen enough brutal violence to last a lifetime. He did not need to witness mindless slaughter such as this, especially when it involved someone he knew and cared for.

"Oh…what in the hell?" Krillin suddenly shouted.

The bald little man raced from the scene, his short legs carrying him several feet away. Dull eyes watched him disappear behind a bush, but the shocked cry that burst from his mouth drew their attention away from Vegeta momentarily.

"S-S-Skip!" Krillin moaned. Staggering backwards with a trembling hand to his lips, the earthling was attempting not to gag.

"What is it, Krillin?" Goku asked tiredly.

"One of Bulma's workers. One of Yamcha's good friends. He-he-"

The human spun around and stumbled, before leaning over a rock and vomiting into the nearby bushes. Goku and Piccolo shot each other a cautious look and crept forward. Gliding past a shivering, gagging Krillin, the two warriors peered around the shrubbery and remained completely silent as they gazed at the dead man on the forest floor. He was a small mousy thing with thick, cracked glasses that lay askew on his face. His eyes were wide and staring; his eyebrows tilting upward in agony and pure grief. Blood caked his chin and mouth as flies buzzed around the gaping hole where his throat had once been. Brain matter splattered its way across the stony ground and the man's body lay spread-eagle and broken.

Gohan tried to peek out from under Piccolo's cape, but the namek gently pushed him back into hiding. The boy was strong, but it was not necessary for him to see such things. This had not been a battle. Something went terribly wrong and everything about the situation told the warriors that perhaps Vegeta was not the one to blame for once.

Goku suddenly turned his back on the dead man and strode back to Vegeta. Krillin wiped his mouth and staggered after his long-time friend, and Piccolo turned and watched the visibly distraught warrior, curious as to what his next move would be.

"Krillin. Tien. You guys need to go get Yamcha," Goku ordered, his voice steady, yet full of uncontrolled anger.

"We can't sense him, Goku," Tien replied quietly

"He can't be far!" The third-class yelled. "We can't let anything happen to him. We can't allow what happened to Vegeta to...to-"

"We're on it, Goku," Krillin said quickly.

The short warrior cast Tien a sharp look and gestured with his head to get moving. Krillin knew that it was not the best time to mess around with Goku. His childhood friend had started changing since his battle on Namek, and it was a bit disturbing for Krillin to handle. The transformation to super-saiyajin had changed Goku and the short monk was still trying to figure out how to avoid pushing the wrong buttons. Obviously his own death had sparked Goku's transformation into super-saiyajin. With such awful and violent deaths at hand right now, Krillin was unsure how the earth saiyajin would handle himself. It was best to follow orders and stay out of his way.

Besides, they truly did need to find Yamcha. The way his friend's power had exploded like that was terrifying. Sitting at Master Roshi's house watching women's yoga, the bald warrior practically felt electrocuted as Yamcha's rage burst in his senses. Master Roshi had been so engrossed in the TV that he did not notice a thing. Krillin, however, was on his feet and racing from the living room as fast as he could. Yamcha's power never felt like that. Even after King Kai's training, Krillin still surpassed his good friend, but the hateful, murderous rage emanating from Yamcha was beyond shocking and it seemed that for those few moments he had grown stronger than both he and Tien!

Tien and Krillin took to the air and left Goku to deal with Vegeta. With a dreary sigh, the small bald warrior tried to block out the image of Goku feeling for the saiyajin prince's pulse…and his angry reaction when he felt nothing. They had only known Vegeta a short time, but it appeared that the dark fighter held nothing but terrible luck.

Goku knelt next to the lifeless prince and placed his shaky hands upon Vegeta's icy face. Closing his eyes, the powerful warrior opened all his senses and meditated, allowing his self-conscious to seep into the empty shell that lay at his knees. Blocking out the world around him, Goku focused only on Vegeta, his mind and soul searching for any trace of life within the broken body. He fought back the panic and anger when he felt nothing. He took in deeper, calmer breaths as he concentrated with all his might to grab onto some form of thought or essence of energy trapped within the prince. For the longest time the third-class saiyajin sat upon the forest floor and connected himself to the body of his rival. Goku refused to accept that Vegeta was dead.

Hal was usually extremely focused. There were constantly plots and plans brewing within his twisted mind, but as he staggered behind the hulking frame of Hikaru, his brain could only replay the last hour of what had happened. He had shot the saiyajin. He saw the blood spray and observed the black-haired alien's body instantly go limp.

But he had jerked away. Hal's blue eyes squinted into the cracks of light that broke through the orange and red leaves above. Even as disoriented and close to death as Vegeta had been, he was the one who threw himself backwards off the steep, rocky plummet. Was the saiyajin warrior truly that powerful and intelligent? Even with his charred organs and multiple deadly injuries and complete lack of 'ki,' had he been able to pinpoint the movement of Hal's finger on the gun—had he been able to see the bullet?

Hal gazed at Yamcha's swaying head as Hikaru lurched forward with the muscular fighter slung over his shoulder. Both of the crazed men were exhausted. They were quite injured from the collapsing of Skip's forest house and as soon as Yamcha was fully unconscious, they decided it was best to run back to the dilapidated home before the other fighters of Earth caught on. But their stamina had left them and they limped through the woods, anxious to get to Hikaru's car.

However, paranoia and clenching fear kept eating at Hal's stomach. He saw the blood and pieces of bone fly from the side of Vegeta's head. He had to be dead. The saiyajin tried to dodge, but he was still struck in the skull by bullet! Though even if Vegeta was dead, he knew the other fighters Skip had always mentioned would be able to track them down. They were close to Yamcha-this Goku and Krillin, and from how it sounded, extremely powerful, too. Plus, Skip had been the one in charge of creating the poison that trapped the energy these fighters used to fly and shoot lasers with. Hikaru held the last remaining solution. They would be unable to subdue Yamcha for long.

"Fuck, we're finally here," Hikaru panted.

Hal broke into a sprint as soon as he laid on eyes on his partner-in-crime's red clunker. Even with his woozy head and aching muscles, the tall, lanky man knew they had to move quickly. Skip and Rich were dead, Yamcha had blown up the house, and he let his power explode wildly when Vegeta was killed. The police were the least of their worries. If everything Skip had ever said about these outrageous Earth warriors was true, they probably already knew that something was wrong. They could have even been nearby at that very moment.

Hikaru jogged up behind him, his grunting voice wheezing. The beast of a man laid Yamcha on the cold dirt and opened the driver's side door. Pulling down a visor, the black-haired General grabbed his keys with beefy fingers and returned to the side of the car. His beady eyes widened and he froze where he stood.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" The insane man hollered.

Hal stood stiffly, his right arm extended before him as he aimed the cursed gun at Yamcha's motionless body.

"We need to get rid of him, Hikaru. He'll have his energy back soon and we won't have enough of Skip's poison to keep him restrained."

Hikaru lurched forward and Hal immediately trained the gun on the hulking man. Cool, blue eyes glared into furious black irises and the two remained frozen as the birds chirped in the fall trees.

"You cowardly bastard," Hikaru snarled. "This pathetic human deserves punishment, not a quick death in his sleep. This is war, boy! He aided the saiyajin and helped kill Rich and Skip!"

"This is no battle, you stupid prick!" Hal shrieked, his usually calm demeanor shattering as panic overtook him. "I don't even know if Vegeta is dead for sure. Yamcha's psycho-strong friends are going to find us and Yamcha is going to tell them everything we did! I want to fuck this pretty little ass as much as you do," Hal explained as he returned the aim of his gun back to the unconscious warrior on the ground, "but he needs to die here and now or else we're goners."

"I've seen my fair share of war and death," Hikaru said. "That saiyajin is dead. I don't think he was as powerful as Skip made him out to be. Trust me. That pussy is dead from one bullet in the skull."

"If he wasn't so powerful, how did he knock you out so many times?" Hal muttered.

"WHAT?!"

"Look, are you going to let me do this?"

Hikaru's curved eyes narrowed more and he growled impatiently. Glowering down at the man who lay facedown in the dirt, the giant commander kicked dirt on Yamcha's back and began to pace. The violent soldier had so been looking forward to torturing the ally of Vegeta, but he had to admit that Hal was right. They couldn't exactly wander into Capsule Corporation and just ask for the solution that trapped 'ki.' He seethed as he felt they had lost the battle. He despised admitting that Yamcha's friends were far too powerful for them to face. If they wanted to live, they had to leave now and finish off Yamcha for good.

"Bah!" Waving his hand angrily, the older naval commander spun around and ripped open the door to his car. Flopping into the driver's seat, he crossed his arms and pouted childishly.

Nodding, Hal took aim and closed one eye. He would make sure to hit the target perfectly this time. Gazing at the back of the head full of shiny black hair, Hal licked his lips and tightened his finger.

A crushing blow landed upon his right hand and Hal howled in agony as his fingers crunched together and broke. The gun skittered across the dirty ground and became lost in the pile of wood and glass that had once been a house. Falling onto his side Hal gripped his shattered hand and moaned in pain as his blue eyes squinted upward. Two figures stood above him with identical expressions of cold anger and disgust.

There was a sudden squealing of tires and a cloud of dust and dirt exploded into the air. Hal shrieked as he realized Hikaru was running for it and leaving him there with the two strange warriors who had broken his hand. Scrambling onto his knees, the yellow and green haired man screamed for Hikaru to return, but through the cloud of dirt in the air, Hal could see the red car driving wildly through the trees before swerving over a small hill and disappearing.

"Fuck!"

Stumbling to his feet, Hal ran blindly through the falling dirt away from where the two men had appeared from nowhere. Blinking through blurred eyes, Hal only then realized that he was running directly toward the fallen forest home. Gasping in shock, the lanky human stepped through a glass window and crashed into a pile of wood and plaster. Falling sideways, the disoriented man disappeared into the mess, his body causing the remains of the house to collapse even more. Krillin and Tien merely watched as the gargantuan pile of debris creaked and groaned before lurching inward and falling deeper into the foundation, the force certainly crushing the skinny man that had fallen into it.

Both warriors felt the small power of the man dim even more and then disappear. It was odd and unnerving to both Tien and Krillin that they had simply stood and watched a person die. Being warriors of peace and protectors of the Earth, they had never allowed someone to perish in such a way. But even without knowing this man, they understood that he deserved whatever gruesome fate he received. He had almost fired a bullet into their innocent friend's head. He had most likely been the one who killed Vegeta, and even though neither warrior liked the saiyajin prince very much, it was obvious that he had been tortured and murdered in cold blood. No, if the tall, thin human was still alive in the broken debris, they were not going to help him. He was trapped and would die alone in pain.

Krillin stared up at Tien and the three-eyed man sighed. Wordlessly, the two turned their backs to the fallen house and knelt next to Yamcha, checking his breathing and pulse. He was alive and his energy, though weak and trapped in one place, felt steady.

"At least one made it out alive," Krillin said softly.

They stared at their fallen friend, unknowing as to the true pain and grief within Yamcha's soul. He may have been alive, but when he awoke, he would never be the same.


	2. The Tears That Flow

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or any of its character. Dragonball Z belongs to Akira Toriyama. I just write fanfiction 'cuz I'm a nerd.

_*Warnings: death, mention of rape and torture, abuse_

Still searching, Goku's body ignored the coldness of the wind and the growing ice on the grass around him. His fingers gently rested upon Vegeta's temples and his eyes clenched together with concentration. It had been several minutes and Goku was still unable to sense any life within his fellow saiyajin. It was beyond frustrating, but something within the optimistic warrior told him that Vegeta was not gone from this world.

The sound of feet touching ground caught Piccolo's attention and he peered over his shoulder-pad to see Tien and Krillin standing behind them, an unconscious Yamcha slung over Tien's muscular shoulder. Gohan was no longer hiding under his old master's cape, but standing close to his father as if trying to sense life within the saiyajin prince's body, too. It was a dreary scene to behold on a day that had been perfectly normal for the rest of them.

"You should probably bring Yamcha to Capsule Corp." Piccolo said softly. "I think it's best that Bulma knows everything that has happened."

"How can we even tell her everything that happened?" Tien barked. "WE don't even know what really happened here!"

Spinning angrily, Piccolo bared his fangs at the pretentious warrior. "Well HE does," the namek growled, nodding his head at Yamcha. "So get lost!"

Tien stepped forward as if he wanted to say more, but Krillin turned quickly and powered up.

"Let's go."

Rising from the ground, the short fighter glanced down at Tien, hoping the tall warrior would forget about his annoyance with Piccolo and leave the grotesque scene. The three-eyed man let out an annoyed huff and spun on heel to follow Krillin. Blasting from the ground, Tien disappeared into the sky with Yamcha, angrily leaving his allies to deal with the mess below. Krillin's dark eyes lingered on Goku's still back and he opened his mouth to speak, but found that his words failed him. It was just too bizarre and unnerving to think that humans, most especially the human that lay dead a few feet away, may have killed Vegeta. The memories of Vegeta's tortures at Frieza's hands and tail were still too fresh and the little bald man felt nothing but pity for the saiyajin prince if he had to relive a similar situation all over again. No wonder he was the way he was.

Sadness overcame Krillin and he slowly retreated into the sky. It would be hard to explain to Bulma what had happened, especially since it involved the houseguest she had suddenly seemed closer to, her boyfriend that she loved dearly, and one of her most respected scientists.

Piccolo watched as the short fighter in orange finally left the scene. It was all for the best. The wise namek knew that Tien didn't like him or Vegeta. Knowing that he was inferior to both the aliens in power, the three-eyed fighter often became too arrogant and insulting when dealing with such serious situations. His anger was not needed and Piccolo understood that it would only derail Goku's focus. Krillin was too emotional and the pity he felt for Vegeta, Yamcha, and Goku was also distracting. The humans that fought for planet Earth were just irritating and Piccolo was glad to see the fools leave. Goku needed answers and Piccolo would ensure that he received them.

Darkness enveloped all of Goku's senses, but it was calming in a way. He discovered he had the ability to read minds after training so hard in his Capsule ship on his journey to planet Namek. Goku had never intended to gain such a talent, but through his meditation and intense self-sparring, the third-class saiyajin suddenly realized that he was able to read the images imprinted in people's brains. Like a slideshow, Goku had been able to view Krillin's adventures on Namek, allowing him to quickly understand situations and events that took place without discussion. Goku could feel every emotion and 'hear' every thought that Krillin had experienced as if Goku had lived it himself.

It was a skill that the super-saiyajin had never really practiced or used since. He swore that he would never use such a technique on someone without his or her permission, as it was so personal and invading. Yet, he had to connect with Vegeta. He HAD to find some trace of life within his rival as proof that the powerful fighter was not dead. Goku had been the only full-blooded saiyajin alive when Vegeta was killed on Namek. The realization made Goku feel sad, lonely, and misunderstood. He would not allow it to happen again.

The kind-hearted saiyajin did not realize that his mind began to wander to darker places; places that he had tried to force out of his mind. Perhaps it was his sudden ability to read minds, or maybe it was the fact that he and Vegeta were last saiyajins alive, but Goku received disturbing, haunting images from the saiyajin prince's deceased mind during his battle against Frieza. Even though it had been hours after Vegeta's murder, there was a moment where Goku's fevered mind seemed to connect with the saiyajin prince, as if the warrior had spoken to him beyond the grave. Goku couldn't recall the events too clearly, as he was almost defeated by Frieza and teetering on the brink of unconsciousness, but he remembered seeing shockingly violent images of Vegeta's past. The third-class wondered if he was perhaps losing his mind during the battle against Frieza, but the short clips he saw of the prince's passing life brought immense waves of emotion that were not his own. Goku had never felt such feelings of terror and guilt and shame. He had never even witnessed such horrifying events in his entire life. He knew these were real…and he never wanted to bring it up to the haughty, grumpy prince.

Frieza had tortured Vegeta. He used the prince in sick ways, ways that Goku could not comprehend or understand until he felt the emotions and thoughts that accompanied the racing images. During the battle with Frieza, the ghosts of Goku's ancestors and kings spoke to him, encouraging him to defeat the creature responsible for killing his people. Vegeta was there, his clothes having been torn from him, leaving him naked and vulnerable. But he stood strong and proud and spoke with the other ghosts, preaching to Goku in a way that filled him with a saiyajin pride he didn't know he had. In between the moments of clarity when Goku could truly hear what was being said, the awful flashes of Vegeta's past screamed inside his head madly. No one was controlling the random, nightmarish visions and Goku still wondered why and how he was the one chosen to see inside the mind of Vegeta.

He knew that the arrogant fighter wasn't even aware it. How could he? He had been dead and buried hours before the battle really got heated and Goku began to lose. It was a mystery as to why Goku caught the prince's thoughts and why they had only occurred for the few moments he was almost defeated by Frieza. For whatever reason Goku was allowed to see into Vegeta's past, he was thankful, for it had given him a renewed strength and fiery anger to defeat the evil that had killed and tainted so many people.

…. _"It is truly pathetic how much you thought you mattered…"_

The words suddenly burst so clearly through the silence that Goku visibly jerked, the unfamiliar voice echoing through his head like someone speaking in an empty room.

"_In a universe where no one cares about you at all, do you truly need to exist? Your power, strength, and importance only mean something to you. To us and all those around you, you are merely disposable trash…"_

Screaming…SCREAMING! The blood was running down his legs and drying instantly from the searing heat. The agony…Oh God! Make it stop! STOP! He's not even here, he's not even aware of what he's doing! This isn't Yamcha…couldn't be. He can stop this! Stop Yamcha! STOP!

"_You are a murderer, Prince Vegeta. You are a worthless, vile animal who destroys the lives of everyone around you. And now, you will be disposed of in the same way you carelessly killed others. And no one will care."_

He's powering up! He's going to incinerate him! The pain is too much. So much blood, so much madness. The look in Yamcha's eyes. How could he do this? What is happening? Why is this happening?! Vegeta's arms—they won't move! He won't fight back—he can't fight back! Why are all those men just standing and staring at him? Why are they grinning? Vegeta's burning alive! Yamcha is raping him! He's raping him and smiling! Why? WHY? Vegeta!

Goku's tortured screams resonated throughout the woods, his voice shrieking madly in the cold air. Piccolo grabbed the jerking saiyajin as his hands flew to his head, his fingernails digging into his temples as he screamed and thrashed violently. Gohan cried out to his father, but the hulking namek pushed him back. Goku was clearly unwell and it appeared that he had stumbled onto some disturbing imagery within Vegeta's mind. If he had, it meant there was still a chance to revive the saiyajin prince.

Trying to calm the deranged fighter, Piccolo pulled Goku's gnarled fingers from his scalp. Grabbing Goku by the wrists, the giant fighter shook his ally harshly before drawing back one clawed hand and slapping the powerful warrior in the face, leaving a few bloody lines across Goku's young face. With his eyes still squeezed shut, Goku's screams quieted and he let out a shuddering moan as he tried to shake the flashing images from his mind. Gasping for air, the third-class saiyajin squinted one eye open and fearfully peered around as if waking from a nightmare.

Surveying his surroundings, Goku was immediately brought back to reality as he viewed his son's stricken, pale face and Piccolo's large hand around his wrist. Jerking his hand from Piccolo's grasp, he spun around and almost fell on top of Vegeta's prone form. Quickly gathering the smaller man into his arms, Goku stood and, without a word to his son or friend, flickered and disappeared from sight.

Krillin's heart pounded loudly in his chest as he and Tien made their way toward the front door of Capsule Corporation with an unconscious Yamcha in their grasp. The situation was still hard to handle, especially since no one knew what had occurred. Krillin began to tremble as he prepared for a very high-strung and extremely upset Bulma to greet them at the door.

Sparing a glance at Tien, Krillin drew in a large breath and held it as he rang the doorbell. Capsule Corp.'s main entry-way clanged with an extravagant chime and the two earthlings couldn't help but roll their eyes. Whenever they visited the Briefs, the warriors of Earth were reminded of Bulma's wealth, something that was often forgotten as she threw herself in danger right along with all of them.

The door clicked and unlocked, revealing the forever happy face of Bulma's blond mother. However, the moment her squinted, cheery eyes met the unconscious Yamcha over Tien's burly shoulder, she gasped and straightened her back.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Briefs," Krillin said. "We need your husband right away. Yamcha is…"

"Out cold!" Panchi Briefs cried, as she stepped aside and opened the door wider.

As the two warriors stepped inside, Yamcha let out a low, long moan. Tien and Krillin shot each other anxious looks and entered one of the Briefs' many living rooms. Approaching the big, squashy couch by the wall, Tien gently placed his friend on the soft cushions.

"Mom, who was at—"

Bulma stopped immediately as she caught sight of her two close friends and their bleak expressions. She was dressed in her gray Capsule Corp. worker suit and was in the process of pulling off oily black gloves.

"What is it?" She asked, her voice wavering slightly. "Who's on the couch?"

Walking quickly alongside Tien's hulking frame, Bulma gasped as she took in her boyfriend's prone body. Besides being unconscious, he appeared to be ok—his white shirt and black pants a little scuffed and dirty, but otherwise she could see no terrible injuries. Glancing at Krillin and Tien in confusion, she sat down on the edge of the large couch and placed a hand on Yamcha's forehead.

"So…what's going on here?"

Krillin sighed and shook his head, his thoughts immediately racing as images of Vegeta's pale and torn body flashed through his mind.

"So much has happened, Bulma, however we really have no idea what is going on," Krillin replied softly. "Yamcha is unconscious, but other than that, he has no wounds. But…but something terrible _has_ happened."

Bulma's large blue eyes slowly turned toward her short friend and Krillin could see the growing unease on her face. The bald monk lowered his head and closed his eyes.

"Vegeta is dead."

Panchi gasped loudly, her trembling hands flying to her mouth as her eyes opened in terror and shock. The thin woman had affection for everyone, and hearing that the young, handsome saiyajin was dead made the loving person break down with sobs. Bulma, however, could only stare at Krillin as his face remained pointed toward the carpeted floor. Her blue eyes darkened and she could only mull over the words he just spoke.

"How?"

Krillin opened his mouth to respond, but Yamcha let out another saddened moan before suddenly shaking violently. Bulma leaned forward and caressed her lover's face as his black eyebrows lowered and cinched together. His teeth clenched and another whimper escaped him.

"He's been unconscious for a little over an hour, we think," Tien explained. The warrior thought of the two thugs who casually stood over the scarred man, calmly aiming a gun at his head as he slept. "We don't know if he was knocked out in a fight or poisoned or what."

"Veh-Vegeta…"

The room stilled as Yamcha's weak, pleading voice filled the air. Bulma's heart hitched in her throat as her boyfriend's expression creased into a look of despair. Everyone in the room held their breath as they waited for the pained warrior to wake up. However, their stomachs lurched at the thought of how Yamcha was involved with Vegeta's death, and why he appeared so very distressed.

"Yamcha, wake up," Bulma begged, her hand stroking the scars on his face gently. "Come on, honey. Wake up."

And with her urging, Yamcha's eyebrows lifted. His lips parted and one bleary eye cracked open. Slowly, he took in the blurred shapes before him before gasping and attempting to sit upright. Panic took over his features and he clumsily brought back a fist to ward off the shadowy figures surrounding him.

"No, get back!" He hissed, his movements disoriented and shaky. "Stay away from me, you sick—you fucking—"

"Yamcha!" Krillin yelled as Tien drew Bulma away from the flailing man. "Stop, it's us, Yamcha!"

But with his eyes half closed and body slow and sluggish, the scarred fighter still attempted to ward off the people near him. His limbs tingled and he felt unbelievably weak. Trembling terribly, Yamcha tried to push himself up, but found he couldn't even lift his upper body from the cushions under his shoulder blades. It wasn't until a sharp smack to his face that Yamcha slowly began to rationalize the situation at hand.

His body was numb and he couldn't even call upon his energy. The poison. The energy-crushing solution within his veins was holding his power at bay. But why weren't Skip's men harming him? Why was he still clothed, unharmed…and why was he lying on a comfortable couch? His surroundings smelled familiar, as did some voices in his distant recollection. Soft fingers brushed against his cheek again and he found himself turning away and closing his eyes. Bulma's hand.

"Yamcha, you're ok now," his blue-haired beauty whispered as she ran her fingers through his black hair. "You're safe."

And at these words, he pressed his face into her hand and slowly leaned forward. Bulma wrapped her arms around her broken fighter and hugged him tightly as he began sobbing into her shoulder. Her blue eyes grew misty as Yamcha gripped her with his trembling hands, having never seen the strong warrior cry so freely or be so terrified. She peered over at Krillin and Tien, who watched the scene with clear surprise on their faces.

It took an hour for Yamcha to finally pull away from Bulma's warm embrace, but even as he sat upright on the couch, his hand wrapped tightly around hers, all he could do was stare at the wall in front of him. His black eyes were glazed and occasionally tears would form, his mouth was pursed and his breath would hitch in his throat, but Yamcha still hadn't spoken. Bulma's mother returned to the living room with tea, her face drawn into an expression of worry and sadness. After placing the tea down on the coffee table in front of her guests, she glanced from one anxious face to the next.

With her lip quivering, Panchi burst, "Will someone please explain what happened to poor Vegeta?!"

Yamcha's head snapped to the side and his wide, dark eyes stared unblinking at the blond woman. Krillin nervously shot a look toward his stricken friend and then up to the innocently loud hostess who stood clasping her hands in front of her. No one intervened as they, too, were desperate to get the story from Yamcha. The man dropped his gaze and he slowly shook his head as if waking from an awful dream.

"Vegeta…Vegeta is…" At the bottom of a cliff with his brains seeping from the left side of his skull. "Dead. He…he's dead."

"What happened, Yamcha?" Tien asked urgently. "We find Vegeta's body at the bottom of that drop-off and that one guy…"

"Skip," Krillin muttered.

"Yeah, Skip, completely smashed only a few feet away. Then you're being carried off by those two guys who are about to shoot you in the head! What kind of enemies are we dealing with here?"

"Skip?" Bulma asked.

Krillin glanced at Yamcha, who still remained staring at the floor, and then to Bulma. She met Krillin's eyes and saw the shadowed expression haunting him.

"Your worker. The scientist."

"Skippy Sato-Jenkins?" Bulma asked with a strangled laugh. Yet as she looked at all the sullen faces, her amused smirk faded. "What the hell does my Leading Project Scientist have to do with any of this?"

When Yamcha bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut, Krillin could only shrug. Talking past Yamcha, the bald monk recounted the details of the nightmare they found at the bottom of the cliff. He told Bulma about the energy levels they felt from Yamcha and his disappearance from their minds. He explained the damage done to Vegeta and Goku's distraught reaction to the prince's suffering. Tien and Krillin went into detail about Skip's body and the chase to find Yamcha. They told Bulma step-by-step how they happened upon her boyfriend lying unconscious on the ground as the tall, lanky punk aimed a gun directly at his head. The two villainous humans were described in detail, how the large ogre of a man sped off in his car and the skinny, crazed guy fell through the debris of the fallen cabin and was most likely crushed to death. They ended the horrendous tale with having last seen Goku concentrating on attempting to wake Vegeta, even though they knew it was hopeless.

Bulma's eyebrows lowered and she stared directly into Yamcha's face as new tears fell from his closed eyes. Her mouth hung open in shock as she, too, felt an awful stab of pain toward the fallen saiyajin prince. Even though he was obnoxious, arrogant, and rude, Vegeta had grown on her in the few months he had lived at Capsule Corp. She thought back to the argument she and Yamcha had had with him only…only two days ago. And now he was gone. A deep aching pain throbbed in her chest at the thought of never seeing the saiyajin prince again.

"Yamcha, you have to tell us what happened," Krillin pushed. "We know something awful has occurred. We know that you and Vegeta were involved in something…terrible. But please, you have to tell us. We can help you, but we need to know what kind of enemies we're dealing with."

"Skip was in love with me," Yamcha blurted, startling them with his forthright admission. The words settled into their heads and the room buzzed with confused tension. "You know, he was my friend. We weren't close or anything…at least, I didn't think so. He was obsessed with me, though. He was crazy."

Krillin's hand tightened into a fist as he remembered the small, mousy man and his ferocious hatred toward Vegeta. Just meeting him that one time made Krillin uneasy. How had he not seen this coming?

"You made a solution to trap 'ki' within our bodies," Yamcha said flatly, his eyes suddenly stabbing into Bulma's. She slowly shook her head and peered up as her father entered the room. He frowned as he took in the dour mood in the living room.

"Just Vegeta. It was a precaution," Bulma said, trying to keep the pleading from her voice. "I invited the universe's most dangerous criminal to live here. I manufactured a solution to keep his energy at bay in case he couldn't be trusted. I didn't even know him yet. It was just a precaution. I never used it."

"It's ok, darling," Dr. Briefs jumped in, although he was not sure what was happening. "Vegeta's presence here was never an issue. We know that you never used it. It's locked away in our medicine cellars and has never been touched."

Yamcha moaned and leaned forward, his strong fingers pressing into his forehead. Frustration and anger was starting to build and he wished he had the energy to fly away. But his ki was locked away, deep inside of his body, just as Vegeta's had been. He was trapped within his own useless body.

"Who created this poison?" Yamcha snapped.

There was a moment of silence before Bulma brought her delicate fingers to her mouth. "Me…and my head scientist."

"Skip had the poison," Krillin growled. "But how did he get Vegeta? How could anyone have snuck up on someone with that amount power?"

"Saiyajins have extremely powerful skin, of course," Bulma murmured, her stomach beginning to twist at the thought that she helped this happen. "Skip and I designed a solution that would keep a saiyajin's energy locked-in for a couple of hours. The syringes aren't your everyday metal. The needles that held the drug were silent, strong, and undetectable. I know. I created them."

"Our leading scientist, Skip, stole from us?" Dr. Briefs barked. "But he is our most respected and intelligent scientist in the field!"

"Well, he's dead now," Yamcha said quietly.

"Why would Skip go after Vegeta?" Tien asked.

At this question, Yamcha laced his hands together and focused on the ceiling. His lips pressed together and his eyes slowly watered before he let out a choked gasp and brought his head into his hands. His shoulders trembling, Bulma rubbed her distraught lover's back and held back tears herself.

"He wanted me. He wanted me the whole time," Yamcha sobbed as he tried to catch his breath. Simply saying the words made him want to crawl into a hole and die. The recent hours rushed through his head and he felt as if he was about to explode. All he could see was Vegeta's broken body and the injuries that Yamcha himself had created. How could this have happened? How did it all come to this?

"Skip hated Vegeta," Krillin said. "Even I could tell from the one time I met him."

"You said Skip was in love with you?" Bulma spoke softly. "But it looks like he really hurt you. What did he do? What did he do to you and Vegeta?"

Pressing his fingers into his closed eyes, Yamcha shook his head violently and stood up. Wobbling, the fighter paced the room, his thoughts racing with everything that he had just experienced. He found he could barely say the words. He couldn't tell his girlfriend that he had…raped the saiyajin prince. He could not let his close male friends see him as this monster, this weak, sick person who had committed such a terrible act. And yet, the words started before he could stop. Everything came flowing out of him.

"Skip, his half-brother, Hal, the man with the split personality, Hikaru, and this disgusting, insane writer, Rich…they…" he stared out the window and suddenly found he could no longer stand. Tien and Krillin moved quickly and caught him before he collapsed. Legs shaking, Yamcha was brought back to the couch and Mrs. Briefs appeared with a cool, wet rag. Yamcha took it, but could only stare at it. A monster like him did not deserve this kind of attention. "They abducted Vegeta. They used that solution. They trapped him and tortured him because Skip loved me. He was insane. They all were. He thought that if he captured Vegeta, I would…" Yamcha let out a sickened laugh. "Skip thought that I'd fall in love with him or something. He thought that since I didn't like Vegeta and most of us were killed when he first invaded Earth, I'd love to get revenge and then would fall for Skip."

Again, the room was silent as the news sank in. The warriors of Earth had seen almost everything, but this story was too bizarre to comprehend. The Briefs and the fighters all gave each other uneasy glances before turning back to Yamcha.

"So they are just simple human beings?" Tien asked. "No powers?"

Yamcha's face tightened and he squeezed his eyes shut in shame. The way he said it…of course this never should have happened. Yamcha had fought so many amazingly strong warriors in his life. How did four weak, insane human beings manage to do so much damage to him and a full-blooded saiyajin?

"They had Capsule Corp. technology," Bulma stepped in. "As much as we all forget, you may all be amazing fighters with unbelievable powers, but you've also had struggles against the Red Ribbon Army and you have no idea just how powerful our inventions are here at Capsule Corp. Vegeta and Yamcha let their guards down. Skip is a genius and he got them somehow."

"Was a genius," Krillin snapped.

"But this still doesn't explain what happened to you guys," Tien blurted, anxious for more of the odd events that transpired. "They captured and tortured Vegeta. How did you get involved?"

Sighing, Yamcha couldn't even think of how to say it. He hadn't trusted Vegeta and he actually mocked the saiyajin as he sat on the floor, tied to a bed post with a bullet hole in his right leg. Then he raped him.

"I…I don't…I can't."

"You were led in by Skip. Skip was your friend," Krillin said, trying to help Yamcha understand that none of them judged him.

"They told me Vegeta had destroyed a village and killed people. They told me that they caught him doing this horrible thing and I believed them. A part of me knew it wasn't true, but I wanted to believe Skip…because I didn't like Vegeta."

"Understandable," Tien jumped in. "Yamcha, it would be hard not to believe that."

"Yeah, only we all would have felt Vegeta going on a rampage, killing people," Krillin replied coldly.

"And I knew that, too," Yamcha whispered. Something burst inside of him then. "But at first I wanted to see him suffer. And then things got out of hand. They implanted something inside of Vegeta and could electrocute him from the inside and Skip said that if I didn't…hurt Vegeta myself they would kill him…and I did. I hurt him. I hurt him so badly. They told me to take these drugs and I did to make it easier. And I helped torture him. I helped kill him, but then I tried to save him…but they kept electrocuting him and then Vegeta didn't wait for me. And Skip found him again and Hal had this gun and when I tried to save him, I was just so stupid. I was so stupid. And Vegeta killed Skip while he was torturing him and then, I don't know, I just wasn't there…and Hal shot him. He shot Vegeta in the head. And he fell. He fell and I couldn't save him. And they shot me with the poison and…and that was it. And Vegeta…was gone and I was taken away."

Bulma threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Fresh tears fell from Yamcha's eyes and he rested his face against Bulma's blue locks. Krillin and Tien remained silent, but Yamcha's guilt coursed through his veins. Nobody, asked it, but Yamcha offered the answer anyway. What happened to Vegeta?

"They raped him," he whispered, his voice trembling terribly. He could hear the collective gasp from the room. "Then they made me…"

"Ssshh…" Bulma cooed. Her hands circled his shivering back and he closed his eyes.

It was silent for several moments as only his sniffles and gasps were heard as he cried. He felt a small amount of relief now that it was out in the open about his horrendous and evil actions against Vegeta.

"I'm so sorry, Yamcha," Mrs. Briefs gasped.

"No, I'm the monster here."

"Yamcha, don't say that," Tien replied. "You were forced to do something you couldn't get out of. You said it yourself. They were going to make you hurt him or they were going to kill him."

"You're a strong man, Yamcha. You survived an awful and terrifying ordeal," Krillin explained softly. "None of us have ever had to face something this sick or evil. This wasn't a battle, Yamcha. You and Vegeta were both tortured and used, and God, none of us were here to help you."

Bulma helped lay her beaten and distressed boyfriend down on the couch. Mrs. Briefs placed the cool rag against his head and they fetched him a blanket. Within moments, Yamcha was asleep, his eyes still wet from crying. The others made their way into the adjoined kitchen before Bulma collapsed to the floor, her hand to her mouth as she wept. Krillin knelt next to her and tried to console her as her parents held each other with grief.

"He'll be ok," Krillin said as he took Bulma's hands into his. "Yamcha's strong. This horrible thing will only make him stronger."

Bulma shook her head violently and cried harder, her voice choking with ragged gasps. "Vegeta!"


	3. The Betrayal

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or any of Akira Toriyama's characters. This is a fanfiction that makes absolutely no money.

_*Hello everyone! I'm glad to see that there are people reading this fanfic…or at least clicking on the first chapter. However, please let me know what you think! I would love to hear from the readers just to see if this story sucks or if it's ok for now. Don't be afraid to review!*_

**Warnings: Angst, raising the dead, blood, mention of rape**

Goku found it hard to keep his concentration on the connection with Vegeta _and_ teleport to Korin's Tower at the same time. But the third-class saiyajin blipped into sight, startling the cream-colored cat and causing the feline's fur to burst out in all directions.

_*__The short man grinned darkly and stepped forward, his black shoes clicking on the dirty floor. "Let__'__s just say that I'll need you to help…persuade someone to fall in love with me. Just think. You'll finally be doing something noble and kind for once in you__r__ life, Saiyajin."__*_

"—Ku! Goku, what happened?"

Gripping Vegeta tightly to his chest, the frazzled warrior kept his eyes closed as he desperately held onto the images and violent words coursing through his head. As much as the haunting and disgusting scenes terrified him, Goku refused to let the saiyajin prince go. There was still a soul within Vegeta and Goku found that his own energy held a spiritual connection to the cold and defeated body in his arms. The dark memories seeped into Goku's mind and he allowed them.

"Senzu," Goku choked weakly.

Through the awful voices distracting him, Goku sensed the cat move quickly. Korin rushed to his garden with a small brown sack in his paws. Filling the bag with freshly ripened beans, the martial arts master clicked his way across the marble floor of the lookout with his large, brown staff. Approaching the tall fighter, the sharp and wise feline could see that Goku's eyes were closed tightly as he concentrated on something with all his might. Korin couldn't help but swiftly take in all the awful injuries and lack of life in the man held tightly in Goku's strong arms.

"The beans only work for the living, Goku," Korin said softly.

"He's still with us," was all the distraught warrior managed to say before disappearing again.

Landing roughly in the front lawn of Capsule Corp. Goku laid Vegeta down, his eyes still closed as he took in all the nightmares the saiyajin prince had experienced. It was hard to decipher the order of the past two days as random images and words flickered through his mind in no direct rhythm, but Goku understood most of what had happened.

_* __Vegeta's eyes widened behind the blindfold and he shook his head frantically. Screaming "NO!" under his gag, the saiyajin desperately tried to escape, his arms pinned behind his back and voice screaming out.__*_

There are two men, but he can't see them! The shame, the humiliation…and Oh God…the AGONY! They're both entering him at once. Tearing—flesh tearing and Vegeta's voice screaming and muffled behind a gag.

Goku's energy started flowing without him knowing it. From his hands, the third-class fighter's blue energy coursed from his fingers, like dancing waves, and settled around Vegeta's body. He became slightly aware that Tien, Krillin, and Bulma were suddenly standing nearby.

"Take the senzu beans," Goku ground out as he sweated and concentrated with all his might.

"Goku, he's gone," Tien replied.

"Do it! Make a solution or something with the senzu bean!" Goku allowed one eye to open as he glanced up at the blue-haired scientist and longest friend. "Bulma…please…"

Without hesitation, Bulma rushed forward and took the small bag that hung from Goku's waist. Hurrying away, she cast one look at Vegeta, her world suddenly spinning as she took in his marred body. She and her father would figure out a way to get the senzu beans into his system. She wasn't going to let the saiyajin prince disappear.

As Vegeta's torture continued to race through Goku's mind, the powerful warrior pushed the words and images deep down within him. Completely seeping into the deathly prince's psyche, Goku found that he could connect with other parts of the dying brain. Flexing his fingers, Goku sent a small, yet forceful shock-wave of his own energy through Vegeta's lifeless body.

"_Wake-up_," Goku thought. When there was no reaction, the earth-saiyajin increased his warming power. Shocking Vegeta again, he demanded the energy to the prince's heart.

Recalling the time he had spared his power for Frieza, Goku remembered that the evil tyrant could live on his remarkable super-saiyajin energy even when he was just a torso. Goku prayed that his strength and fulfilling power could restart Vegeta's system enough to get a senzu inside of him.

For several minutes, Goku's energy pulsated and pushed forward into Vegeta's broken body. Goku would call into the empty mind and try to awaken some part of the elite saiyajin—enough to bring life into the tortured being. But as soon as his energy was pushed into Vegeta's body, it would slowly creep its way out again. There was no power within Vegeta for Goku's energy to hold onto.

Growing frustrated, Goku continued the controlled expulsion of energy, hoping desperately that something within the prince would grab on and spark back to life. Calling Vegeta's name, Goku tried to psychically bring whatever was still alive in Vegeta back to the surface. Searching past the horrid memories within the tortured saiyajin's mind, Goku tried to insert himself into the battered and torn body.

"_It's Goku…Kakarot. You still need to fight me. You still have a destiny to defeat me, right?"_ Goku asked silently. _"I thought that becoming a super-saiyajin was your dream, your fate. Are you just going to lay here and do nothing and let that hope disappear? Why? Because of some humans who beat you up? I figured a powerful saiyajin prince like yourself could handle this."_

"You arrogant asshole. Wake up."

Krillin turned away and put his hands on his bald head. It was horrible, what happened to Vegeta, but watching his closest friend in the world try so desperately to save the lifeless corpse of the saiyajin prince was too much. It appeared that Vegeta's death on planet Namek had affected Goku greatly. Judging by the amount of power he was uselessly pouring into the arrogant saiyajin's body, Krillin found that Goku was extremely out of sorts and in denial of what was happening. As Tien and Krillin paced nervously, Piccolo and Gohan appeared in the sky and landed, their presence unknown or ignored by Goku.

_* His chest and stomach were rubbed raw and his once tan flesh was now ghostly white and marred with deep burns and cuts. The shirt he had been wearing was only a few scraps clinging to his neck, the black material wet with blood and sweat. In only a few hours with his injuries, he was sure he would die….*_

Yamcha was crying as Skip laughed-that man with the mousy hair and black glasses. The other humans standing nearby also held identical smirks of amusement. Vegeta was laying on the bed…his body practically steaming from the charred flesh and burns that spread across his skin. The saiyajin prince was dying and no one was helping him.

_*" I will give you everything, Yamcha. Do not pity this beast. He is not human…"_

"_Would you do this to Goku?!" Yamcha shrieked, his wild eyes glaring into Skip with pure hatred. "Goku isn't human! He has saved this planet countless times! Would you do this to him?!"_

"_Yes…"*_

Disgust struck Goku to the core and his friends and son observed the way his eyebrows lowered and lips pressed together in a tight line. His breath hitched in his throat and body froze as the words echoed in his fevered mind. He saw the glowing glasses and cold expression on Skip's face as if he were staring through bleary eyes—Vegeta's eyes. Sadness gripped the childish warrior at the callous words and finality in the human's voice.

Goku spent his entire life fighting evil. He'd fought androids, aliens, and even other humans, however never had he been struck with such feelings of horror or betrayal. For most of his life, Goku believed that he was human. He and his friends just assumed that, besides his strange birth-defect of having a tail and the ability to transform, he was just a simple-minded, peace-loving kid. Upon discovering his saiyajin heritage, Goku had his first taste of prejudice of whom and what he was from Frieza. The awful lizard called him names, joked about his intelligence, and could only hurl insults at him as he began to defeat the monster. But the words stung. The outright, vile hatred of the saiyajin race truly hurt Goku, even though it had only been a year earlier that he discovered what a saiyajin was.

But he felt Vegeta's spirit become crushed and scarred from Skip's words. He felt the usually arrogant and selfish saiyajin's pain at the idea that even Goku would have been hurt by these crazed humans. Goku could barely grasp the outright fury cast by the human, Skip, and felt his own horror mix with Vegeta's. Their emotions connected and Goku felt a wave of despair consume him as he observed Skip coldly hiss at the mere existence of both sayajins.

"_It isn't fair,"_ Goku whimpered silently into Vegeta's empty shell. "_Why is there so much hatred? Why would any human want to hurt us like this?"_

"_Because they're scared. Because they're weak…."_ A voice answered.

"_But that doesn't mean they had to do this!"_ Goku hollered into the dark chasm of Vegeta's mind, his voice echoing off the walls. "_They had no reason to do such a thing! They hurt you, they hurt Yamcha! There was no reason for this at all!"_

"…_Kakarot?"_

Without hesitation Goku sent a huge spike of power directly into Vegeta's body. At that moment, as their minds connected, Goku forced his way into the other saiyajin's psyche, a mental image of himself grabbing hold of the dead warrior before him. There was an agonized cry of shock and anger toward the violation, but Goku ignored the brash saiyajin's outraged yell. A flurry of confusion struck Goku and he felt his power erratically invade the unconscious form at his hands as a torrid of images and violent words swirled through his mind.

As if lifting through miles of ocean, Goku looked at his empty hands as he rose to the surface. There was a great weight pulling his psychic energy and with one final tug, Goku wrenched his power back into himself. With a wild gasp, the third-class warrior flung himself onto his back, his breath wheezing, as if he had just flown around the world 10 times. Sweat poured from his face and he stared up at the sky with confusion as a croaking, horrifying sound filled the air. A watery, sucking gasp rattled past the earth warriors and Goku sat up quickly, his eyes widening as the destroyed being on the ground twitched and jerked, Vegeta's hands gnarled into claws and white eyes rolling in his head.

Gohan let out a choked cry at the sight of the zombie attempting to suck in air. Renewed blood slowly seeped from Vegeta's gaping mouth and his body creaked and bent as it fought for life. Fingers twisting in the grass, Vegeta's head inclined at an awkward angle as yet another horrifying croaking breath tried to fill his blood-stained mouth.

"He's been dead for too long," Krillin whispered, his face white with terror. "He's not going to make it!"

Goku rushed forward and gathered the prince in his arms, a shrill of fear and disgust running through him as he felt the broken bones and torn muscles pulsate against his skin. Locating Bulma and her father within Capsule Corporation, he teleported to their exact position only a few yards away.

Bulma let out a surprised yell before immediately gasping in shock at the twisting, morbid creature held in Goku's arms. Bringing her hands to her mouth, she backed up, knocking down beakers and glasses in her retreat.

"He's alive," Goku shouted. "Please, we have to get a senzu into his system!"

But Bulma remained paralyzed at the mere sight of the gasping, twitching saiyajin who bled blackened blood all over the floor. Even Dr. Briefs stood transfixed at the nightmarish sounds escaping the usually powerful and proud prince. Goku looked at them desperately before slamming his hands on the operating table.

"He can still make it! Dr. Briefs! Bulma! Help him!"

Snapping out of his trance, Dr. Briefs hurried forward, his small frame shaking as he approached the creature twisting on the operating table. He hesitated shortly before pulling out a scalpel and cutting directly into Vegeta's seizing stomach. Falling backwards, Goku watched with wide eyes as the doctor began pulling tubes, syringes, and more operating tools into sight. One glimpse of the long needles made the earth-saiyajin's head spin and he barely made it out of the small hospital room before gagging and collapsing on the floor. Several doctors leapt over him and rushed into the operating room to help.

"Dad!"

Gohan and the others ran to the fallen warrior's side. Helping him stand, they moved him further down the quiet, barren hallway, the sound of hospital beeps and harried voices echoing from the nightmare a few doors down. Breathing rapidly, Goku bent down and put his head in his hands, the past hour finally coming to a close.

…

Within the operating room, Dr. Briefs and his top doctors strapped the saiyajin down with ease. They cut through his hardened abdominal muscles, entering into his stomach. As the alien seized and jerked on the table, the doctors surrounding him thread a tube into his body. Bulma finally snapped out of her trance and began to administer oxygen, her eyes glued to the pure white corneas that rolled around in his skull.

Knowing that the dying creature could not possibly swallow a senzu bean, the doctors forced the 'medicine' directly into Vegeta's open stomach. None of the doctors questioned the Briefs as to what kind of pill the saiyajin was being administered, as they had seen plenty of outlandish and unbelievable things while working for Capsule Corporation. However, everyone in the room saw the charred, almost black organs within the beaten, wounded warrior. One doctor even ran out of the room upon seeing the burnt innards of the saiyajin.

Observing the watered-down and crushed senzu bean entering his system, Dr. Briefs quickly went to work and removed the tubes sticking out of Vegeta's stomach. Knowing how quickly the senzu beans worked, Dr. Briefs had only used a small amount of the magical vegetable to ensure that the healing process did not surprise them and enclose around the tubes, trapping them within Vegeta's body. It was best that the defeated warrior regained consciousness and consumed the remaining beans orally.

But as he removed the tubes and wires from the gaping wound in the saiyajin's abdomen, Dr. Briefs's sharp eyes noticed a glinting objecting embedded in the charred muscles of Vegeta's stomach. His eyebrows lowered in concentration and he quickly scrambled for a large pair of tweezers, however as he recovered and drew close to Vegeta's heaving body, he saw that the senzu was already working. Huffing in frustration, Dr. Briefs quickly withdrew everything from Vegeta's tormented abdomen and backed up as the large incision closed-up on its own.

"What was it, Dad?" Bulma asked, her voice wavering.

The old man stuffed his hands in his pockets and shook his head. Wishing he had a cigarette, the genius doctor could only shrug. "There was something inside the poor boy's stomach. It appeared to be some sort of small microchip."

The other doctors in the room stood fascinated as many of the 3rd degree burns on Vegeta's chest and abdomen began to fade. The small cuts and scrapes disappeared completely; however many of his deepest wounds still remained, though healed to the point that Vegeta could survive. His breath calmed, but the scientists and doctors could still hear the watery rattle of blood and fluids with each inhalation.

"I'll get another senzu bean," Bulma hurriedly said.

"Wait, daughter."

All eyes turned to the small, shaggy-haired man.

"I'm afraid with the lack of oxygen and brain function for so long," another doctor spoke, "our patient here will not recover. I think another one of those—"

"Please leave the room so my daughter and I can speak, if you'd all be so kind," Dr. Briefs explained calmly.

With looks of unease and confusion, the fleet of geniuses stepped out of the room, closing the door behind them. Bulma turned to her father, her stomach twisting as she heard Vegeta struggling to breathe next to them. But she saw the seriousness in her father's usually cool and collected face and straightened as the man gazed at the saiyajin prince on the operating table.

"When our guest wakes up, how will he react, Bulma?"

The Capsule Corp. heiress's large blue eyes widened and she quickly shot a glance at Vegeta's strained face and twitching form. It was true that she didn't really know the saiyajin prince very well. His presence on Earth over a year ago proved that he had no issue with blowing up their planet and killing everyone in sight, but from the stories she heard, he had changed drastically on Planet Namek. Even after inviting him to live at Capsule Corp. the wild prince had never threatened her or her family. Yes he threw some major tantrums and said pretty awful things, but she never felt that Vegeta would ever harm them.

However, she understood what her dad was trying to say…and she wouldn't believe it.

"If we just talk to him and listen, I know he won't try to hurt anyone."

Dr. Briefs sighed and lowered his eyes, as if hating what he was about to say. "My family and my home come first," his voice more stern than it had ever been. "Poor Vegeta was violated terribly by humans. One of our very own Earth warriors also assaulted him," he raised his hand as Bulma began to object, "even though he didn't want to. Vegeta has experienced a terrible ordeal and we honestly have no idea how he will react when he is fully healed and back to full power."

"We have Goku," Bulma pleaded. She suddenly realized she was standing much closer to the pained saiyajin on the table. Subconsciously, Bulma stood over him protectively. "Piccolo and even Gohan could keep him contained if—"

"Until Vegeta gets strong enough and possibly surpasses them all. This young man is training fanatically at a rate that he may very well achieve the super-saiyajin strength. Do we know if he will be on our side after everything that has happened to him?"

"What are you saying then, Dad?" Bulma snapped. "I don't see how we can fix this. We won't know anything until Vegeta wakes up."

Turning his back, the doctor closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Everything rushing through his mind screamed "Wrong!" but the doctor would not have an enraged, violent saiyajin running around Capsule Corp. killing his loved ones. He knew that Vegeta could quite possibly come through and pose no threat to Earth, but he could not take the risk, at least, not until they were sure he was no danger once he woke up.

"I need you to do something for me, Bulma," the weary man murmured. "If you and the other Capsule Corp. employees would; please scour Skip Sato-Jenkins's desk, files, and belongings to see if you could find anything on a microchip." Bulma's eyebrows creased together with curiosity. Her father continued. "The device will be about the size of a thumbnail. Look for any documents, blue prints, or even sketches of an invention that has something to do with trapping and containing the energy of this saiyajin."

"But he had the concentrated solution that—that I created to trap Vegeta's ki. Why would there be a microchip involved, too?"

Pressing his lips together, Dr. Briefs peered down at the blood-stained warrior. "I am not certain, daughter, but there was definitely a small device within our friend here. It may be a second way to control Vegeta's power. Didn't Yamcha mention some other mechanism that also held our friend's energy at bay?"

Bulma stood silently as she took in her father's words. Her eyes darkening, Bulma could only stare at Dr. Briefs's bowed head.

"So we keep him caged up, too," she hissed quietly. "We continue using these awful creations to keep him contained!"

"Only for now," Dr. Briefs replied, hating the words coming from his mouth. "I know he has been through a horrendous ordeal. I know that he will awake betrayed, scared, and humiliated, but we cannot take the risk of allowing him to come to full power. We—"

"Trap him," Bulma shot back. "Dad, if we show him that we trust him, he won't attack us! This idea is terrible. He's going to wake up and know that his energy is gone. He's going to know that we're imprisoning him, too!"

"Not if we don't tell him." The collected old man felt disgusted in himself. Normally trusting and helpful, Teddy Briefs could not believe the idea himself, feeling like a monster for even thinking of trapping and lying to the saiyajin prince. They were going to manipulate his body, just like the cruel humans who had tortured him for hours.

"We find a way to control his energy," he continued. "We find a way to modify this microchip so it keeps his power level low and unattainable. When he awakes, we will act as though we are not sure why his energy is not returning. Perhaps he was administered far too much of his ki-barring solution and it had extreme effects on his body and mind. Perhaps it will return in a few days. However, we won't know why his energy is not returning."

Bulma could only stare at her father, mouth agape. Everything she had ever known about her dad was crumbling as the intelligent little man envisioned the traitorous plan right in front of her and the unconscious saiyajin. Seeing the horror on his daughter's beautiful face was too much and the man appeared twenty years older suddenly.

"It is only for a little bit," he pleaded, trying to convince himself, as well. "If he wakes up and poses no danger to us, we will remove the chip. He may very well wake up and be back to his normal self. If that is the case, there will be no need to lie to him. This is merely a precaution."

Feeling burning tears stinging her eyes, Bulma turned away, her fingers suddenly nestling in Vegeta's silky black hair. She could not believe that her loving and carefree father could concoct such a disloyal plan, but what hurt the most was that she understood him. As much as Vegeta had behaved himself since his return to Earth, she had no idea what kind of person he would be after these nightmarish two days. Still, the thought of knowingly trapping his energy inside of him tore at Bulma's heart. She knew that she carried the blame for his tortures, as she and Skip had been the ones who designed the energy-trapping poison in the first place, but now she was going even further to bar his ki after he was in a "safe-space."

Turning tear-filled eyes to her father, Bulma nodded. "I'll go to the lab and look."

Dr. Briefs looked like he hated to be alive. "Please do." He stepped aside as his blue-haired daughter walked past. "And Bulma? Don't tell Goku."

….

*_Thanks for reading. Again, do not be afraid to review, even if you think this story sucks! If you are interested in reading the fanfiction that came before this one, you can find a link to it on profile._


	4. Understanding

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or any of its characters. Dragonball Z belongs to Akira Toriyama and this fanfiction makes no money. It's just for fun!

*_Thank you so much for the reviews. I'm glad you're enjoying this angst-filled story. Warnings: Foul language, implications of rape and abuse, mention of torture_

…_._

"How is he?"

Bulma had barely stepped out of the small hospital room before she was greeted by all the Z warriors…except for Yamcha. The fleet of doctors stood nearby anxiously, their large eyes gazing over Piccolo's impressive, green form.

Bulma looked over her shoulder at a man in a lab coat. He was one of Capsule Corp.'s medical technicians and spaceship designers: Capsule Corp.'s most-trusted. Then again…so was Skip.

"Hans," she said softly, cringing as her voice broke. "I need you to go through all of Skip Sato-Jenkins's belongings: Files, documents, and projects. Please find anything concerning a microchip that involves controlling or subduing the energy that resides in the bodies and minds of these kinds of warriors," she requested, gesturing to her friends surrounding her. "The rest of you are free to go. My father is stabilizing the patient now. Thank you for your work."

The Z-warriors glanced at each other, none of them able to ignore the defeat and sadness in Bulma's voice. Turning back to her closest friends, Bulma captured Goku's innocent and imploring eyes. Unable to hold back, Bulma let out a choked sob and covered her face with her hands, instantly embarrassed that she would shed tears in front of the strongest fighters in the universe.

But she felt arms surround her as Goku pulled her close. Krillin rubbed her back and she heard the others comforting her…except Piccolo, who distanced himself from the show of emotion. Gasping and sniffling into Goku's orange fighting shirt, the blue-haired woman could only see Vegeta's gaping mouth and white eyes as he struggled to live. Why was she focusing so much on the haughty saiyajin prince when her boyfriend was upstairs wracked with guilt and terror? Why was her heart breaking for an alien who had originally come to Earth to destroy it and was responsible for Yamcha's death in the first place?

Pulling away from Goku's strong chest she squeezed out the last of her tears and wiped her nose. Trembling, the usually loud and headstrong woman took a few calming breaths before quickly regaining her composure.

"Vegeta is stable. We only used a little bit of the senzu to get him breathing," she explained. "My dad is still working on waking him up so he can ingest a senzu bean orally."

"Will his power be back to normal?"

"Will he remember what happened?"

"Will he be a danger to us?"

The last question echoed down the hall from Piccolo's booming voice. The fighters of Earth quickly looked at the giant Namek in surprise. Bulma could see Tien tense at the thought, his face immediately tightening as he, too, realized what Piccolo meant. She felt her heartbeat quicken as the conversation between her and Dr. Briefs resurfaced.

"There's nothing to worry about, guys," Goku said, even though his childish voice revealed some doubt. "Vegeta will just need someone to talk to and he'll be back to his original, cranky self."

Krillin rolled his eyes. "You saw directly what happened, Goku. You know better than anyone that someone like Vegeta is not just going to forget this. You also know what Vegeta is capable of," the small man said darkly.

Feeling the walls closing in around her, Bulma staggered away from her friends. They noted her shaky actions as she departed the possible, soon-to-be fight.

"I have to grab something from the lab. I think it would be best if you guys went to help Yamcha upstairs."

Quickly turning away, Bulma rushed down the silent hallway, her eyes staring forward as she passed the beeping room that held Vegeta. Goku called out to her, but she ignored his worried voice. She could not handle hearing yet another argument about keeping Vegeta captive…as she and her father already had that covered. She and Hans were going to find information on the microchip within Vegeta's stomach and Bulma was going to be the one to redesign yet another tool to control the prince's body.

….

Sitting with Yamcha was awkward. The broken fighter simply stared at the blank wall in front of him, his dark eyes haunted and full of despair. The warriors of Earth surrounded him, but after several minutes of trying to get the traumatized human to speak, they gave up and occasionally chatted amongst themselves. Mrs. Briefs would appear from time-to-time with tea and small sandwiches…which disappeared into Goku's mouth within seconds. The earth warriors kept every topic away from what had happened to Yamcha and Vegeta. They already gathered as much information as they needed and understood the severity of what had occurred.

"Wanna watch some TV, buddy?" Krillin asked with false excitement in his voice. Clicking on the huge, flat-screen TV on the wall, the short, bald fighter flipped through some channels before landing on a hockey game. Krillin whistled, going far too overboard with his happy demeanor. "Looks like the Hawks are going to kill it this season."

"Krillin, turn it off," Piccolo snapped.

Fumbling with the remote, the funny, little warrior powered down the television and pouted. The large Namekian could barely tolerate the humans on this planet most of the time, and having to be stuck in a room with all of them made his head spin. The space buzzed with nervous tension before Tien finally gazed up at Yamcha, breaking the unwritten rule that they were not to speak of the past events that transpired.

"No one blames you, Yamcha," the three-eyed man said softly.

The room became tense and the warriors spared a few glances at their silent friend. At first Yamcha continued to stare forward, the same black, haunted eyes unwavering, but then he sighed and looked at the floor.

"You should. I did a terrible thing. I should have been able to save him, but instead I…"

"You tried your best, Yamcha, you really did," Goku cut in, unsure of how to approach the horrible thing that happened. "I saw it and you had no choice. You couldn't have—"

"Saw it?" Yamcha whispered. The scar-faced man's head shot up and he glared directly into Goku's large, childish eyes. "What do you mean?"

With an embarrassed laugh, the quirky saiyajin placed a hand behind his head. "Sorry, Yamcha. I know this is humiliating and all. I saw Vegeta's thoughts and his emotions. It's a little jumbled and I'm not quite sure the order of events yet, but I know you were captured, too. I know you didn't have a choice and were only looking out for Vegeta's safety."

"Vegeta's thoughts? You read Vegeta's thoughts?" Yamcha was fully alert now as his eyes darted from one anxious face to the next. "But how? He's…"

"He doesn't know, Goku," Krillin said softly.

"Know what?"

"Vegeta's alive," Gohan piped-up.

Yamcha felt as if he was kicked in the stomach. His eyes widened and he felt he couldn't breathe.

"Vegeta's alive?" He stood, excitement radiating from his trembling body. It appeared that his energy was coming back. "Vegeta's alive! Vegeta's alive!"

The warriors of Earth were perturbed by the sudden attitude-change and even more caught off guard by the crooked smile which was now plastered across Yamcha's face. With a relieved laugh, the scarred man fell back onto the couch cushions, one hand pressed against his forehead. "He's alive."

"He's alive!" Yamcha shouted, suddenly shooting upright, a look of dread crossing his features. "He's going to kill me. He's going to kill everyone."

"WHAT?!" Piccolo strode forward, his green claw grabbing Yamcha by the collar of his white shirt. "What do you mean by that?"

The human began to sweat nervously as he felt the nails of the giant namek begin ripping his clothing. His eyes fell to the floor and the green giant holding him tossed him onto his feet.

"He told me he would, but at the end there…I knew he didn't mean it," Yamcha whispered. His large eyes shot around the room, imploring his friends to listen to him. "I mean, look at it from his view. Vegeta decides to help us fight the androids in three years, Bulma gives him a place to live, and everything seems to be peaceful. He can tolerate the humans and Earth. Now suddenly he's abducted, tortured, and—and…" Yamcha's eyes fell on Gohan's innocent, young face, unable to continue anymore.

"It's just what we thought," Tien growled, his pity for the saiyajin prince instantly disappearing. "Saiyajins can't be trusted. Vegeta will be looking for an excuse to destroy us and Earth, just like he originally wanted to do!"

"Shut up."

The room buzzed from the sharp words and all eyes fell on the orange-clad warrior who was suddenly standing in the middle of the living room. The fighters could sense Goku's anger building and they drew away from the seething saiyajin. Tien pressed his lips together, immediately silencing his tirade and realizing he had gone too far. Goku looked around the room, a feeling of betrayal coursing through his veins.

"Human-beings did this to Vegeta. Humans stole his power and held him against his will, so don't think that his saiyajin blood caused this whole thing to happen." Goku's anger still rose and his friends were shocked to hear such _alien_ words coming from his usually smiling mouth. "I saw his thoughts, felt his emotions…and what happened to him…" Goku shook his head. "I've never…I've never seen such a terrible thing. Those four humans were monsters. Vegeta is going to need allies when he wakes up, not people guarding him and caging him again."

Yamcha felt his throat close up and he turned away from the powerful warrior, shame and grief swallowing him whole at Goku's anger.

_*" __I just won't ever believe that a human could be colder or crueler than a saiyajin. The people on earth look out for each other. We care for each other and we go out of the way to make sure that our friends and loved ones don't get hurt.__"*_

He had said that. Yamcha recalled the harsh words he had spoken directly to Vegeta not even two days earlier. How wrong he had been.

_*__"And someday…you will see the true evil of y__our precious planet and people."*_

"You were right," Yamcha whispered out the window as he remembered Vegeta's cold retort. "Don't you wish you weren't?"

"Yamcha?"

The depressed man turned toward his friends, a fire suddenly burning within him. His dark eyes looked directly into Goku's and he gave one curt nod.

"When Vegeta wakes up, we treat him as a friend. He's been damaged and hurt in a way none of you could fathom. We are the ones to show him the goodness in humans," Yamcha added as he eyed Tien coldly. "_I_ couldn't help him…but _we _can."

…..

Bulma paced the science lab of Capsule Corp., her hand gripping a small, leather-bound black book. The sketch-pad fit perfectly in the palm of her hand, the insides of the old portfolio full of sketches and quick drawings. Within Skip's book contained the blue-prints and makings of an electrode-control device. It was a microchip which drew in a warrior's energy and held it captive before allowing the ki to be released only by a remote control. Detailed images were drawn to perfection within the small sketch-pad, the microchip and remote control sketched in full creation by the deranged scientist.

Bulma was shocked as she read through the leather booklet that had been tucked away within Skip's desk. His work-space was nothing out of the ordinary. For the crimes he had committed, Bulma was expecting to find severed heads and dead animals within his desk, but nothing appeared out of place. She and Hans and a small group of Capsule Corp. employees searched his computer, Internet databases, and personal belongings for anything that remotely resembled a microchip or control that was not of their design. As she dug through his large metal drawers, she pushed aside notes and paperwork before observing the small black book nestled under a huge stack of papers.

Thinking it was an everyday scheduler, she placed it on top of the desk and kept hunting. Growing aggravated and desperate, she brushed a strand of blue hair from her face and leaned against the desk. Shaking her head, Bulma absently flipped open the pocket-book, her eyes widening at the immaculate sketches within the small pad. There were several designs on the small, white pages, drawn in detail with directions and individual parts and pieces. Skimming through Skip's pages of genius, her finger stilled on one drawing, and she read the words entitled, "Whore Torture."

Sickness gripped her and she trailed the intricate, tiny sketches, which gave detailed directions on how the microchip worked with the energy-suppressing poison she and Skip had created. Harsh words were written out, referring to Vegeta as IT and other disgusting names.

"_Once IT is subdued, the subjugate-chip will be inserted into the whore anally. Even though the creature will have no access to its ki, the microchip will track the energy deep within the whore and move further into the body. Subjugate-chip can only be removed through surgery. The chip will collect the alien's energy into one point. With the remote-control, settings will be placed 1-5, to release the creature's energy into its own body. _

_Burn Fuck-toy, burn."_

Bulma's heart leapt into her throat. The young woman had seen so much in her life and she wasn't even past her 30s. Her adventures with Goku and lavish life at Capsule Corporation seemed to prepare her for anything. She'd been on adventures that involved being turned into a carrot, being groped by perverted pigs and old men, seeing her closest friends killed by cruel enemies, and surviving the crumbling planet Namek. Yet just reading the small paragraph written by one of her top scientists made something break within the strong woman. Skip and the three others who tortured and raped Vegeta were an evil she never could have imagined.

And now she and her father were going to manipulate the device within the saiyajin prince to further his torment. Swallowing back angry tears, Bulma turned and grabbed the red phone from the wall in her lab. Dialing, she waited for the other end to pick up and felt coldness grip her as her father answered.

"We found it. He has the blue-prints written in detail," Bulma explained.

The other side was quiet except for a steady beep that told Bulma Vegeta had been hooked up to a medical ventilator.

"Please do what you can to modify the controller to keep Vegeta's energy under control." When Bulma said nothing, Dr. Briefs sighed. "It's only for now, my dear. I hate it as much as you do, but we have to make sure he is not dangerous."

Bulma nodded even though her dad saw nothing. Feeling like the scum of Earth, Bulma acknowledged him.

"And Bulma…please work quickly."

….

A few hours later, an exhausted Bulma trudged from her science lab, a small gray controller in her hand. It was a replica of Skip's control device, only with a few modifications. The horrid creation no longer held a dial that could control the rate and amount of power exerted throughout the saiyajin's body. Instead, the module was calculated to hold back Vegeta's power, just as the serum had. Since the potion within him was due to wear off at any moment, his ki was free to fully come back. The controller now drew in Vegeta's energy and held it, but Bulma made sure to get rid of the torturing aspect of the awful thing. There were several buttons on the controller, ranging on how much control it had over Vegeta's energy. With one click, Bulma could easily release control over the saiyajin and allow him to fully power up and resume his normal strength.

Entering the medical hallways, Bulma's stomach twisted as she approached the beeping room, feeling great fear grip her as she now had to face Vegeta…even though he was still unconscious. Peering into the small room, she saw her father writing down some notes as he stood over Vegeta's bed.

"Here it is," she snapped as she entered the room.

Dr. Briefs looked up and saw the gray controller in his daughter's hand. Moving forward, he took it from her gently and inspected it.

"Please tell me exactly how it works."

"It's pretty simple, Dad. The small gray button locks Vegeta's power in place. That small knob next to it can adjust how much hold the microchip has inside of him. Essentially, we can control how much Vegeta can power up or how much power we want to take away," Bulma explained, her voice cold and robotic. Dr. Briefs paled at the harsh words. "Right now the microchip inside of him has completely blocked his energy. He's as weak as an average human," she said, making sure to be blunt and direct. There was some satisfaction at seeing her father falter, knowing that he felt just as evil as she did for doing this to Vegeta. "However, if we were to press the large green button in the middle, it would completely release Vegeta's energy and he would be free."

"It's a leash."

"Yes."

With a long sigh, the dreary doctor inspected the remote a little longer before opening a desk drawer and placing it inside. Pulling another senzu bean from the small brown sack sitting on a nearby table, Dr. Briefs approached the saiyajin.

"Wait," Bulma whispered. "Let's at least get Goku down here. In case…well…just in case."


	5. Helpless and Alone

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or any of the Dragonball Z universe characters. This story makes no money and was written just for my own sick pleasure.

**Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault and rape, flashbacks to rape, angst, depression, PTSD**

_*This chapter will summarize a lot of what happened in the first story, "I Hate Being Right," which can be found on Adult . However, I did edit some language due to its graphic content. Still, heed the warnings. There are descriptions of rape in this chapter._

Goku refused to enter the claustrophobic hospital room until all the needles were hidden. Bulma would always be amazed that the powerful saiyajin was terrified of syringes, especially since he was a warrior who had received some of the worst injuries imaginable and even came back from death. It brought some humor to the stressful situation at hand. Bulma and her father would tell no one of their plan. As far as they were concerned, Vegeta would awake without any power. He would not be able to access it and everyone would be confused as to what had happened to his ki.

If he "behaved," the green button on the control would be pushed and Vegeta's energy would return to normal. If he was a threat he would, in the simplest terms, be a prisoner.

Bulma tried to keep her emotions in check, smiling at Goku's childish actions and speaking to her father as if they weren't committing the awful crime against Vegeta. A saiyajin thrived off power…hell, they lived for their amazing strength and abilities. Trapping the prince's ki within him, even if he had used his energy for evil, was literally disabling him. Vegeta would be crippled and Bulma was the one inflicting the injuries.

"I'm going to remove the breathing tube. He should be able to swallow a whole senzu bean now," Dr. Briefs explained.

Nodding, Bulma felt her stomach twist anxiously. Goku watched in awe as the intelligent doctor slowly cared for the stricken saiyajin prince. Removing the tube from Vegeta's slack mouth appeared easy enough, but Goku paled briefly as the doctor brought out another instrument and threaded it down the unconscious warrior's throat. Placing the senzu bean at the top of the pencil-thin wire, there was a quick suction sound and the magical vegetable disappeared from sight.

With practiced skill, the small, tired doctor pulled the thread from Vegeta's throat, the cord exiting with a wet slap. Backing away, Dr. Briefs seemed to hide behind Goku's large form as all eyes in the room anxiously observed Vegeta's sleeping body.

Still stained with blood, the prince's skin slowly darkened and resumed its natural tan glow as the burns, lacerations, and deep cuts on his body scabbed over before disappearing completely. The three observers watched in awe as his right leg straightened, the large wound in his thigh closing and pushing a bullet out through the skin. The hideous scar along the left side of his skull filled, allowing his long velvety hair to re-grow like a plant reaching for the sun. Bulma felt her heart leap into her throat as a fearful whimper rose from Vegeta's lips, his eyebrows pinching together as if in pain. Trembling suddenly, the prince let out a hacking cough, a few drops of blood landing on his white pillow as the internal injuries fully healed.

Goku made his way to the shaking hospital bed, knowing that the angry prince would probably be confused and disoriented upon waking. Bulma and her father remained where they stood, though, unable to move forward to help the beaten man.

Vegeta moaned and one heavy eyelid lifted. His coal-black iris scanned the room before landing on the large, shadowy figure above him.

"NO!"

Throwing himself off the squeaky bed, Vegeta landed hard on the linoleum floor, his shaky legs not allowing him to stand. Powerful hands grabbed his shoulders and his terrified scream filled the small room. Two more figures approached and Vegeta thrashed against the iron grip around his torso, his teeth gnashing and voice growling ferociously at his attackers.

"Fuck you! Get away from me! Get away!"

"Vegeta," Goku said quietly. "Vegeta it's us. It's Goku."

But the terrified prince couldn't comprehend. A heavy blanket wrapped around his brain and his body felt slow and sluggish. His constant attempts to call upon his energy were thwarted. All he could feel was the heavy weight against his back and it terrified him, making him unable to think straight.

"Get off me! Get off me! Let me go!"

Goku had never heard such fear in anyone's voice before and pity struck his heart. The innocent warrior tried to ignore the flashes of memory he had seen within Vegeta's mind, but it had all been too real. Sighing, Goku released Vegeta and stood, taking a step away to give the cowering alien on the floor his space.

Vegeta raced to the corner of the small hospital room, his body curled and animalistic eyes glaring into the wall. Wrapping his arms around his knees, the confused and agitated saiyajin shielded himself from the predators surrounding him. Without blinking, he continued to stare forward, freezing like a statue as he awaited the next "attack."

Goku's eyes lowered and he shook his head as he noted the dried blood-stains on the once-white floor. It was disturbing seeing Vegeta act this way. His body-language screamed "terror" as he pressed himself into the corner of the room, his body stiff like a cat defending its territory.

"Vegeta. You're back at Capsule Corporation. We found you, and Bulma and Dr. Briefs helped you," Goku murmured. "You're safe now."

"My poor boy," Dr. Briefs said as he slowly approached the shaken warrior. Kneeling, he kept his distance, but stared deeply into Vegeta's pale face. "What can we get you to make you feel better? What do you need, Vegeta?"

The stricken saiyajin stared a moment longer before moving finally, his tense body relaxing slightly. Craning his head, Vegeta peered over his knees to gaze at Goku and Bulma as if seeing them for the first time. Looking beyond them, he peered around the room, realizing he was not in a dark, disgusting basement or restrained in some humiliating fashion.

A shaky hand rose and trembling fingers traced the left side of his head, checking for the missing pieces of skull. Feeling a full scalp of hair and absolutely no injuries, Vegeta shook his head slowly, confusion soon replaced with shame. His lips quivered and his eyes squinted as hot tears threatened to fall. Flashes of memory struck him and he bit back a disgusted sob as the recent events rushed through his mind: his tortures, his pain, his humiliation—all of it. Scraps of violent words and agonizing terror came back to his memory, clear as day. Yamcha…what he did—the human who had been forced to rape him: the human who tried to protect him at the same time. The cliff where it had all ended. The gun. That fucking gun.

Vegeta's fingers were gnarled in his hair as his body shook, his eyes squeezed shut. It was all too much. And now here he was…alive. Why was he alive? Why had the earthlings brought him back again when he never asked for their assistance?!

"Vegeta, please, we're here to help."

Slowly, madly…the dark prince raised his eyes. The black, icy depths of his irises stared into Goku's worried face and he trembled as rage filled him. The fear and panic disappeared as the situation fully closed in on his vulnerable mind. Rage. Pure, blinding rage.

Vegeta stood slowly, his small frame appearing huge as a cloud of fury surrounded him. Even Goku took a step back from the murderous eyes that glared through him. Still covered in blood, Vegeta's shirtless body bulged and shook. Carelessly, Bulma emerged from behind Goku's tall form, her blue eyes wide with pity and anxiety. She held her hands up as if to calm the enraged alien.

"I'm so sorry, Vegeta," she stammered. "We're going to make this right. You don't—"

Even without his powers, the saiyajin was fast. Darting forward, Vegeta's hand clenched around Bulma's frail throat, his strong fingers crushing her esophagus.

"You were in on it!" Vegeta roared. "You aided that sick monster, Skip! If it wasn't for your stupidity I—"

Something huge collided with Vegeta's skull and he was thrown backwards into the wall. His feet sliding out from under him, the dazed saiyajin tripped over his fumbling legs before catching his balance. Eyes watering from the strike to his head, Vegeta's world turned red as he saw Goku comforting the blue-haired traitor. Without a rational thought in his brain, the fuming prince charged forward again, attacking the younger saiyajin.

Pulling Bulma behind him, Goku could easily track Vegeta's movements, the insane fighter displaying the same power as that of an average human. Goku recognized, with worry, that with a senzu bean in his system, Vegeta should have regained his normal energy-level. However, he was fighting like a madman, swinging wildly with movements so slow, Goku didn't even dodge. Vegeta threw his fists into Goku's chest and stomach, his arms hurling forward as the disoriented saiyajin hollered and grunted. Without even raising his own strength, Goku just stood and watched in shock as the saiyajin prince grew exhausted and winded, his body weakening from just a few punches and kicks.

Crouching down, Vegeta's hands slid to his knees and he wheezed and coughed. Barely being able to stand, the defeated warrior stared into the dirty linoleum floor as sweat poured from his face. He, too, realized that something was horribly amiss.

"Th-the poison," he whispered. "It still has a hold on my ki."

Goku reached out to rub the prince's back, but Vegeta straightened and smacked the offered hand away. Wiping his mouth angrily, the trapped being stared at the ground as he tried to collect his thoughts. The panic he had felt earlier slowly returned and he found he could not look at any of the people accompanying him in the room.

"We're going to help you," Goku reassured him. "I know what happened to you was awful, but you're not going to be alone. Like Dr. Briefs said, whatever you need, we will get it for you."

Peering up at the blank wall to Goku's right, Vegeta gazed, unseeing. "You know what happened to me?" He repeated. "What do you mean?"

Goku faltered before dropping his eyes to the floor, shame and guilt flooding him. "I had to make a connection with you, Vegeta. I'm so sorry. Somehow you were still alive within your own dying body and the only way to get you to resurface was…to…lock onto your thoughts."

Vegeta's dark eyes snapped to the naïve saiyajin and Goku held in a whimper of fear at the fury and betrayal on the prince's face.

"The thoughts just came rushing into me and I saw…everything. I-I'm not even sure what to make of it all, but it…was horrible."

Staring at Goku in disbelief, Vegeta's eyes grew wide and a choking sound erupted from his throat. Staggering away, the trembling saiyajin grabbed the hospital cot he had been laying on previously, his mind reeling at the words. Sweat trailed down his pale face and Vegeta's eyes shot around the room before landing on the darkened blood stains all over the bed. Sensation left his legs and the short warrior slid to his knees, his fingers ripping through the once-white bed sheets as he landed on the hard floor. Shaking hands flew to his face and Vegeta let out an agonized howl.

Kakarot had seen it all. He'd seen his pathetic capture at the hands of the insane humans. Merely one dart had taken its toll on the prince's power and Vegeta was abducted in the woods and carted to some dungeon cabin deep in the forest. Kakarot had seen him bound to a chair and beaten, then assaulted by Hikaru's manic touches.

Vegeta's biggest rival read his mind and got a front row view of the arrogant saiyajin's assault in the bathtub and the hours of rape he endured by three madmen, his tortures recorded by a sick, perverted writer. Kakarot had seen the gun and probably even felt Vegeta's own terror and shame throughout it all. He observed the way the humans spoke to him, touched him, and threatened him. He had watched Yamcha's appearance and knew how close he had been to escaping. Kakarot felt the torture-device deep within Vegeta's body, knowing how much pain the saiyajin prince had experienced during the entire ordeal. The powerful warrior watched Vegeta's assault continue at the hands of the unwilling Yamcha, his fear growing as he realized the human warrior had taken pills to make him serene, out-of-control, and completely disoriented, almost killing Vegeta during the rape. And he saw Vegeta's death. Kakarot saw how Vegeta was chased down by the humans, his body dying from the tortures inflicted on it, and then the final coldhearted end. He had been shot in the head.

Vegeta wasn't aware that he started crying, his hands balled into fists that pressed into his eyes. All he knew was that the man he hated—the saiyajin who had achieved super saiyajin and held all the power in the universe—witnessed his torture and rape by humans. Not only did Goku know what happened…he felt all of Vegeta's terror and pain. And he pitied him. Goku pitied Vegeta and it was almost worse than the tortures themselves.

Goku knelt next to the curled, weeping saiyajin, the guilt in his chest making him feel powerless. He knew how incredibly proud Vegeta was and the humiliation he must have felt made Goku feel horrible. Placing his hand on the quivering warrior's back, Goku wasn't expecting the prince to recoil so violently.

Lashing out at Goku's innocent face, Vegeta fell backwards against the wall, his face contorted into an expression of madness. Eyes wild and red from the tears, the saiyajin prince snarled and stood, stumbling slightly before regaining his composure. Rubbing at the wetness on his face, Vegeta ripped the remaining black material that was once his shirt away from his neck. Muscles twitching and eyes burning, it almost felt as if the saiyajin prince was powering-up. But nothing happened. There was not even a spark of energy within the hateful alien.

"First you Earthlings take everything away from me," Vegeta hissed, his voice dangerous and quiet, "and then you want to help me?" His black eyes darted from one worried face to the next. "You don't want to help me. You only want to save yourselves!"

"Vegeta," Bulma whimpered. "Vegeta, please!"

"Shut up, bitch!"

Goku's blood froze at the harsh words, but he remained kneeling on the ground as the crazed warrior shook with fury. He met Vegeta's eyes and the two stared at each other.

"I may not have my powers now," Vegeta whispered darkly, "but consider me a much larger threat than those androids. You will wish that I had never set foot on this disgusting mud-ball of a planet."

And with that, the shirtless fighter stepped past Goku, his words chilling the air within the quiet infirmary. Disappearing through the door, Vegeta silently crept away. The three remaining people in the room could barely breathe, the amount of rage and hatred emanating from the small saiyajin having ripped away their ability to speak.

After several minutes, Goku stood, his heart hammering in his chest as memories that were not his floated through his mind. Goku was the most powerful person in the universe, having just defeated Frieza, but he held respect for everyone. Even his worst enemies were puzzles for the childish saiyajin to figure out and he treated his opponents with curious dignity. However, he found he could not forgive the humans who did this to Vegeta. The naïve and innocent warrior still did not understand how or why people—humans!—would…rape a person. The rage and disgust whenever he thought about it scared Goku and it worried him even more that he empathized with Vegeta's hatred at the moment.

"Shouldn't someone go after him?" Bulma's voice squeaked.

Goku gazed at the door Vegeta had stormed out of a few minutes ago. With a sad smile he shook his head. "Vegeta has the same amount of power as a normal human right now. I think we should just let him cool his head."

"Goku, this goes beyond "cooling off!"' Dr. Briefs barked. "He is out for blood!"

Sighing, the distraught warrior turned to look at the scientists. His dark eyes landed on the purpled bruises around Bulma's neck.

"I'll keep a track on him," Goku replied, tapping his temple. "Besides, he'll really only put himself in danger. I just don't think it's a good idea to keep him trapped here at Capsule Corp. Vegeta needs trust right now, not anger."

Bulma's hand rested against her collarbone, fingers tracing the pained spots where Vegeta had grabbed her. Large worried eyes peered at the door and she blinked a few times to try and clear her thoughts. She trusted Goku and his ability to see the good in people—but she felt that Vegeta was far too damaged to be saved.

…

The prince was fairly surprised that no one followed him. None of the earth warriors made an appearance and Goku hadn't chased him down. Still fuming, Vegeta charged through the cold, quiet hallways of the infirmary, his mind set on a shower and change of clothing.

When Vegeta first arrived on planet Earth after the Namek ordeal, he had been given a room while the Namekians lived outdoors with the Briefs' many animals. The saiyajin demanded a large room, far from the rest of the inhabitants of Capsule Corporation. And, of course, he had been given what he wanted. Bulma even gave him a large wad of spending cash should he ever decide to explore the planet and the attractions it had to offer.

However, Vegeta simply disregarded the gift, seeing the money as some form of debt he would have to repay later. Besides, a prince didn't need such petty forms of survival. Sometime after the denied favor, Vegeta had stolen the Capsule ship and launched into space, looking for Goku after the epic battle against Frieza. After several weeks, and no luck on his search, Vegeta returned to earth only to be greeted by the loud-mouthed woman, her dumbass boyfriend, and suddenly an attack by Frieza himself, which had been thwarted by the purple-haired boy from the future.

Upon entering his pristine room once more, Vegeta found that the offered money had appeared again inside a book on his nightstand. Annoyed, he simply tossed the book and its contents into the closet of his room, absolutely refusing to accept any kindness from Bulma and her family.

He decided he certainly would use it now. Securing himself in his room, Vegeta slowly turned and locked the door, knowing that if one of the earth warriors wanted to break in, they easily could. Walking into the spacious bathroom, Vegeta clicked on the lights and gazed around the brightly lit room, his eyes squinting from the luminous reflections bouncing off the tiles.

A shower, a change of clothes, and then he was out of there. But as the angry saiyajin brought his hands to the hem of the red and black checkered pants, a wave of vertigo passed through him. Hal's pants—those were Hal's pants.

His hands trembling suddenly, Vegeta ripped the garments from his muscular legs, wanting to shed the hideous things from his skin immediately. However, he was not prepared for the ghastly sight below.

The senzu beans healed everything on an injured person, but Vegeta learned on Planet Namek that they did nothing to cleanse the skin. All the mud, blood, gore, and human residue that had collected on his body remained and his black eyes could not ignore the tendrils of darkness that trailed between his legs, all the way to his toes.

Vegeta's head hit the rim of the bathtub before he even knew he was falling. Twitching on the cold floor, Vegeta's eyes rolled into his head as shock set in, the memories rushing through his delirious mind in a myriad of violent words and terrifying images. Hyperventilating, the small saiyajin curled in on himself as he tried to fight off the sneering, laughing voices in his head. Squeezing his eyes shut, his lips worded silently as he told himself he was ok now…that everything was over.

But was it over? The traumatized alien clenched his teeth and whimpered pathetically as his body shook painfully. Pieces of his memory had virtually disappeared and he wasn't sure what had happened directly before he was shot in the head by Hal. Which of the humans had perished? Who was still out there and what happened after he was shot?

He remembered the gun. That fucking weapon was all too clear in his memory. He remembered Hal aiming…and something told Vegeta that even in a state of near death, he had predicted the precision of the bullet. Vegeta had thrown himself backwards off the cliff. Yes, the saiyajin still had some of his battle wits within him even though his internal organs had been charred to blackness. Vegeta guessed the angle of the gun, the power of the bullet, and he hurled himself backwards just as Hal fired. It still hadn't been enough, though.

But what happened before that? Vegeta couldn't even recall where Yamcha was or how Hal and the other found him. Was it Rich who accompanied Hal to witness Vegeta's final moments? Or was it Bruce…Hikaru? Was Skip still alive?

No, something told Vegeta that Skip's life ended. His racing mind showed glimpses of a rock cutting through the small, weak man's throat, tearing his esophagus from his body. It wasn't Yamcha who killed Skip. No…Vegeta completed that task himself. And Rich? Vegeta could not remember what happened. Hal was with someone as he raised his gun. Hal was furious—hurt. So was…**Hikaru**.

But now where were they? Vegeta trembled on the cold, tiled floor as he hugged his knees and closed his eyes. If they were out there still, he would never be safe—not until he regained his power. But for some reason, he still had absolutely no ki. It had to have been more than two hours since he was found by the earth warriors. Surely, even a spark of energy should have made itself known. But there was nothing. Vegeta's body felt empty, like a hollow shell that once held something amazing and grand. The saiyajin prince was at the same level as a useless human and it terrified him. He had never felt so powerless.

Struggling to sit up, Vegeta's dead eyes strayed away from looking at his naked body, his reeling mind unable to take in all the blood and mess on his skin. Shakily, the scarred fighter leaned over the tub and twisted the handle to hot, the spray shooting from the showerhead above. Leaning against the glossy tub, Vegeta sat on the floor like a small child, his black hair hanging low and head bowed as he waited for the water to heat up. Feet sticking straight out in front of him, Vegeta gazed slightly at his right ankle before quickly looking away.

That ankle had been brutally wrenched from the chair he was originally bound to when first arriving at the horrid cabin in the woods. Vegeta recalled the constant pain he endured from the broken appendage and then the gun-shot wound that later accompanied the same leg.

Beating his fists into the ground at his sides, the angry saiyajin let out a rush of air as fury pounded through his veins. He just couldn't understand how the situation had gotten so out of control. Vegeta had survived the worst experiences while in Frieza's command. The wicked tyrant was sick and perverted _and_ the most powerful being in the universe, yet the young prince lived through the tortures and madness inflicted on him by the evil lizard and his men. Vegeta survived horrendous battles and awful wars and saw things at such a young age that would make a person insane. How had four powerless, inferior humans defeated him so terribly?

Realizing he could taste blood from the teeth chewing his lower lip, Vegeta slowly rolled over and climbed onto his feet. Entering the shower, he stood momentarily before carefully sinking to his knees and then resting on his bloodstained bottom. Even with two senzu beans in his system, Vegeta found he did not have the energy to stand. Normally he would curse this weakness…but he didn't even have the energy for that, as he sat silently at the bottom of the tub, the steaming hot water rushing onto his head and past his tense shoulder. Deep swirls of red danced around his fingers and legs and he closed his eyes, not wanting to see the haunting blood tease him as it disappeared down the drain.

For a long time the broken warrior sat, his anxious body relaxing slightly as the water raced over his tight muscles. His breath came in steadily as exhaustion overcame him, sleep wrenching his body lower in the tub. Closing his eyes, Vegeta lay against the curved back of the bathtub, a feeling of déjà vu alerting his senses suddenly.

_* __"I want you to take these."_

_Bruce held out his enormous hand and Vegeta eyed the two white pills that sat in his palm. The saiyajin was leaning tiredly against the filthy toilet in the small bathroom as the sound of splashing w__ater filled the tub to his left…_

_The warmth in the tub and the pleasurable high that seemed to have taken over Vegeta's body made the saiyajin want to follow the words that were spoken. He was exhausted and his body felt even weaker than before. It seemed almost impossible to keep his eyes open and it began to feel as if it didn't matter what happened in the tub. Sleep was coming._

"_Looks like the pills are working," Rich whistled quietly from the doorway. He was writing like a demon as his glasses gleamed devilishly__…_

_Vegeta tried to rise from the tub, but he felt clumsy, weak, and lethargic. Bruce shoved him down in the water, Vegeta's forehead bumping against the hard bottom of the tub as he did so. The man clambered upon his back, forcing him to stay under water and making him unable to rise…_

_Vegeta screamed under water, though he felt no pain. Bruce had decided not to enter him, but his lungs were already crying for oxygen and the enormous pressure on his back forced all the air from him. Vegeta's feet kicked out behind him frantically, sending waves of water all over the floor, but Bruce did not stop. Vegeta's right foot slammed into the metal faucet of the tub and he began to choke in the bubbling, dirty water as his entire leg exploded in pai__n.*_

Sitting up with a gasp, Vegeta blinked through the rainfall in his eyes, his heart racing as he gazed around the bathroom with confusion and fear. Disoriented, it took the prince some time to realize that he was at Capsule Corporation. He must have fallen asleep. Swallowing painfully, shame flooded the ailing saiyajin at the awful memory, and he stood, his dark eyes squinted in anger.

Finishing up in the shower, Vegeta mechanically continued to wash himself, his eyes staring blindly into the wall as his soapy fingers scrubbed at the blood between his legs. Shampooing his hair, the long, black locks hung past his shoulders as all the mud and traces of his torment disappeared. After years of abuse and trauma, Vegeta brought back the wall that protected his mind from the horrors he experienced. His barrier was intact and he was on autopilot as all emotion and thoughts were suppressed. It was how the saiyajin survived and moved forward. However, underneath the mask of calmness, Vegeta could feel the mounting insanity boiling in his veins.

Turning off the shower, the prince stepped from the tub, his body stiff and face blank. Concentrating, Vegeta attempted to raise his power to evaporate the water off his skin, but the old habit was left undone. Immediately, the beginning stabs of panic started to take place and Vegeta found he couldn't control the terror growing deep within him. Lashing out, Vegeta let out a crazed scream as he punched at the white walls in the bathroom. Normally, his fists would crush the plaster and tiles into pieces, but he only left indents and bloody stains instead.

Feeling even more panic-stricken, Vegeta punched harder, his brain buzzing with terror as his continual calls for energy were ignored. The inconsolable saiyajin didn't even notice the knuckles breaking in his hands or the blood smearing the walls. He just wanted his energy back.

Flinging himself to the wet floor, Vegeta lay on his back and grasped his tall black hair. Ripping at the dripping locks, Vegeta growled and screamed, his throat aching as he tried to power-up. Like a child throwing a tantrum, the small warrior kicked and convulsed as the panic overtook him. Screaming and screaming, the usually gathered saiyajin completely lost himself to the fear and helplessness, his mind and soul begging for the energy his body so craved.

But there was nothing. As if missing both arms and legs, Vegeta no longer felt whole. He was a saiyajin without ki…and he would never recover from this loss. So he screamed, unable to do anything else as panic and terror gripped him.


	6. Face to Face

_Thank you very much for the reviews, my friends. I'm glad that you are interested in this story and I enjoy the feedback._

**Warnings: Violence, blood, angst, mention of rape**

"What do you mean you let him go?!"

The fighters of earth stood in a panic in the Capsule Corp. living room. Piccolo was practically ripping his turban from his head in shock as Goku and Bulma calmly stood before them, informing everyone that Vegeta had disappeared from the infirmary in an irate and murderous state.

Blinking rapidly, Krillin could only stare at his long-time friend and shake his head at Goku's naively trusting nature. "So let me get this straight? An enraged, almost-super-saiyajin is parading around Earth after telling you he was going to kill everyone on the planet…and you just let him stroll out?"

Goku grinned and placed a large hand behind his head. Even though he often appeared innocent or thickheaded, the earth saiyajin got a kick out of spinning-up his friends. He had kept his senses trained on Vegeta's small energy since he left the building. Only minutes earlier, Goku felt a rush of rage and despair emanating from the prince's psyche and had to submerge the need to aid the pained warrior. He made his mind to not interfere with Vegeta's space and privacy and he would respect that, as long as the distraught alien didn't hurt others or himself.

"Vegeta doesn't actually have any energy right now. He's as weak as an everyday human, it seems," Goku explained.

Surprised, the fighters in the room glanced at each other. Yamcha sat quietly on the lattice in the living room window, his eyebrows cinched in concern at Goku's words. Having been poisoned by Skip and Bulma's creation himself, Yamcha was almost back to full power, his ki slowly creeping its way into all of his senses.

He was also saddened and completely upset to hear about Vegeta's rage upon waking and the saiyajin's threats toward humans and the earth itself. It didn't surprise the pained man, but a large part of him wished that Vegeta had awoken with some desire for comfort or help. He had prayed that their connection throughout the ordeal had changed the saiyajin prince…or least brought Yamcha to his mind when he had regained consciousness.

'_Why, so you could play the hero once more?'_ a bitter voice in Yamcha's head hissed. _Face it, you enjoyed hurting the saiyajin prince just so you could turn around and coddle him. You loved the way he held onto you when he was in pain. You loved the way he needed you and depended on you. You're such a sadist._

Yamcha closed his eyes and lowered his head as his friends discussed the situation. Disgust rose within him and he wondered if it was true. Had he really been hoping that Vegeta would wake up, scared and helpless, begging for Yamcha to come and comfort him? Was the scar-faced fighter truly fantasizing about being the knight in shining armor, whipping the pained and tortured saiyajin into his arms as they reminisced about the way Yamcha had hugged him and kissed him briefly on the forehead?

'_Face the facts,' _the awful voice laughed, '_you're no hero. Yes you held Vegeta in your arms as he bled and whimpered. Yeah, you kissed him once and cried when he was shot. Why did you do those things? Oh, it was because he was bleeding to death after _you_ raped him. You held him and kissed his defenseless body at the edge of the cliff because _you_ lost him and allowed him to get fried by Skip's microchip! You wept and screamed for him after he was shot because _you_ were at the bottom of the fall dicking around with the remote-control! And why did all of this happen in first place? Because YOU refused to listen to Vegeta in the beginning and laughed at his shame in Skip's bedroom! Oh, if only you had taken Vegeta away immediately when he first crashed into you in the woods. You would be guilt-free and not trying to distract yourself with desperate images of heroism and a happy ending._

"Excuse me," Yamcha choked as he stood suddenly and rushed from the living room.

He could feel the eyes of the warriors on his retreating back but he didn't care. He needed air and was starting to feel nauseated. Rushing into the front yard of Capsule Corp. Yamcha braced his hands on his knees and dry-heaved, his voice choking back sobs as he tried to breathe. Gasping, the trembling human heaved a few more times before straightening and wiping his mouth. Tears stung his eyes, but none fell. With blurred vision, the agonized man gazed into the sky, mildly surprised that it was nighttime, the stars barely visible from the West City lights.

It slowly dawned on Yamcha that his nightmare had started at 11:00 AM that very morning. Somehow, meeting Skip, running into Vegeta, being forced to assault him, attempting to save him, and then getting abducted himself had happened within a four-to-five-hour time frame. How had his world crumbled so terribly in such a short amount of time?

A light hand landed on his shoulder and Yamcha spun, his fist raised and glowing with red power. Through the brightness he could see Bulma's large, worried eyes. He took in the loose curls that dangled past her chin, the blue locks pushed back with a large headband. She still wore her gray Capsule Corp. jumpsuit, but even with an un-kept appearance she was stunningly beautiful. Timidly, Yamcha reached a finger forward and trailed her soft cheek, his mind racing with the disturbing thoughts of what he had experienced in just one day. Bulma's concerned, open eyes never wavered from his strained face.

Rushing forward, Yamcha captured the small, but strong woman in his muscular arms, his body quivering and jerking as tears began to fall once more. Squeezing his eyes shut, Yamcha inhaled Bulma's scent and wept, his world spinning out-of-control as he felt like he might explode with grief and guilt. Bulma was silent as she pressed her small hands into her lover's back, feeling her heart ache from the sadness and pain she had witnessed in just a few hours. She knew that things would never be the same again.

"We have to find him," Yamcha croaked. "I can't stand the idea of him getting hurt."

Bulma said nothing, but simply pressed her nose into Yamcha's shaking chest, her blue eyes blank as she stared out into the city.

…

Vegeta had no idea where he was going. He was on edge—alert, paranoid, angry, and confused. All these things meant bad news for a saiyajin; especially a saiyajin who had no contact with his ki. His black eyes shot from one strange face to another, his heart racing with unfamiliar fear as everyday humans walked by, laughing or chatting. He stormed past patios full of drinking people, past dark alleys that held looming shadows, and across busy streets full of honking cars. The noise, the energy, the life…he wanted to destroy it all.

The anxiety and mounting panic still pressed upon his chest, but his anger was stronger. He wanted to create a gigantic ball of sizzling, beautiful, violet energy and release it into the joyous faces of the oblivious people strolling past. He craved to feel the heat that had rested deep within his soul since he was a baby. His mouth watered for the ability to call upon his ki and focus his life-energy to one point, feeling its caressing waves licking at his flesh as he allowed it to dance in his hands.

But there was nothing. As if he were blind, Vegeta's one most important thing in life had been taken from him and he could not sense it anywhere in his body. The panic was building again and Vegeta's hands rose into his black hair, his fingers tightening to the point of ripping the locks out in chunks.

What had he done in the past when life was too much? Vegeta tried to take a few calming breaths to fight away the panic that was threatening to engulf him again. Back in his horrid days of Frieza, how had he managed to stay sane when the pressure made him crazy?

"Hey, cutie, lookin' for a good time?"

A burnt-out hooker swayed uneasily on the curb of the sidewalk as her hazy eyes stared him up and down. Vegeta felt bile rise in his throat just looking at the creature, but the loud bar next to her caught his attention. As if in a trance, Vegeta marched forward, his hands in his pockets as he brushed at the money in his black pants. The hooker's dagger-like, curled nails scratched against his loose, open-throated gray shirt as she tried to grab a hold of the handsome, dark man. She was surprised when a strong hand gripped her face and shoved her backwards hard, causing her to fall off the curb and into the street.

"Fucking asshole!"

Upon entering the bar, Vegeta's black eyes scanned the environment, noting that it was relatively empty except for a few burly bikers near the bathroom, a scowling bartender, and a handful of stoned junkies playing pool. Music blasted from the jukebox, already encouraging a headache to form in the prince's temples. One of the drugged-up patrons stared blankly at Vegeta before gazing back down at his own crotch, where his girlfriend (or some random female) was giving him a hand-job. Vegeta froze momentarily as he eyed the neon-orange hair on the punk's scalp and his several facial piercings, the man's face suddenly melding into Hal's.

The urge to flee rushed through Vegeta, but he stood his ground. Or rather, his legs remained frozen to the floor as anxiety kept him in place.

"You want somethin', boss?"

Shaken out of his funk, the surly saiyajin shuffled his feet and approached the bar. Pulling out a wad of cash, he laid it before the bartender's eyes and gave a short nod.

"Your strongest."

Vegeta recalled that when he wasn't being beaten, degraded, and sodomized by Frieza or one of his sick cronies, the saiyajin prince was either on missions or planet-leave. When not hiding in his quarters or brutally punishing his body with extensive training, Vegeta would head out with Radditz and Nappa to drown his trauma in drugs and alcohol. Although he didn't indulge often, the saiyajin prince got wild when he did decide to "let loose." To dull his mental and bodily pains, the youth would very often lose control, drinking beyond his body's tolerance or taking any drug that was offered to him. More than once, Nappa and Radditz had to haul his unconscious or completely delirious body quietly into Frieza's bases or past suspicious guards. It was a time in his life he wished he could forget.

He wished he could forget a lot of things about his life. Vegeta sighed and tipped his bottle of Spelt Whiskey back and forth. He had sampled a different brand of alcohol before that and was not a fan. When the bartender poured a sample of this, he bought two bottles. Downing the first bottle, Vegeta cracked into the second quickly and was already halfway finished. He was getting quite drunk and the saiyajin's cold face grew darker at the thought. Without his ki, even his muscles, blood, and organs had become weaker. Normally he would just have a good buzz going at this point. Although…he also hadn't eaten in two days; something that was absolute torture to a saiyajin. However, even with his amount money, he didn't want food. He just wanted something to end the pain, disgust, and self-hatred coursing through his veins. He wondered how much he would have to drink to end it all.

"What next?" he inquired of the bartender.

The mustached man looked at him warily as he cleaned a spotted glass. "You sure you want another? An entire bottle?"

Vegeta leaned back with a smirk and opened his hands at his sides. "It's still early in the night, isn't it?"

Pressing his lips together, the bartender nodded curtly and replaced the glass he had been cleaning. "That it is."

Within two hours Vegeta had finished off two bottles of whiskey, a bottle of gin, and was now swallowing down something the bartender described as a malt-liquor with the word cobra in it. Vegeta was dismayed to see that there were no actual cobras inside.

Trying to read the label, the saiyajin's normally hawk-like vision blurred and doubled. Closing one eye, Vegeta swayed back and forth as he tried to focus on the miniscule text, but gave up after a minute. Running a hand down his face, the inebriated prince placed his chin in his palm and enjoyed the fog that clouded his brain, making all thoughts leak from his mind like a sieve. His nose and lips were numb and he knew that if he tried to stand, he would immediately be on the ground.

"There he is!"

Large hands gripped Vegeta's shirt and spun him around in his chair. There were four men in front of him and the tiny blond hooker he had pushed down earlier. Blinking one eye at a time, Vegeta tried to count the number of people towering over him, seeing doubles of everything.

"Come on, gents," the bartender warned. "He's been quiet the whole night. Leave 'im be."

"Shut up, old man. It's between him and us."

Hauled to his feet, Vegeta scrambled toward the bar urgently as if trying to reach the bartender for help. The man looked at his pitifully wasted face and shook his head helplessly, causing Vegeta's frustration to explode.

"Fuck! Give me my bottle, idiot! I'm not done with it!"

With a snarl of anger at the short man's lack of fear, the brute gripping Vegeta's shirt pulled him from the bar, dragging the defenseless saiyajin outside into the brisk air. The four men handled Vegeta roughly as they shoved him into an alley a few buildings down from the bar. Vegeta barely felt his back collide with the brick wall behind him, his brain unable to track what was happening.

"You messing around with one of my girls?" the beastly man directly in front of Vegeta hissed, his rancid breath making Vegeta want to vomit. Through blurred vision, the drunken saiyajin could not distinguish one hulking figure from the next. A flash of neon pink, burnt-out blond hair, and gigantic breasts stood behind the four men.

"I wouldn't touch that thing even with someone else's dick," Vegeta slurred, laughing at his own wit.

Something hard slammed into Vegeta's nose and the back of his head collided with the brick wall he had been forced against. Stars burst in his vision, but the pain felt dull and far away. A trickle of blood crept past his lips, but he did nothing to wipe it away.

"You gonna fight back, pussy?" another voice barked.

Saiyajin adrenaline kicked in and a rush of fury ignited Vegeta's drunken, swaying form. Swiping his right fist, Vegeta punched one of the men hard, the force of the strike hurling the ogre into the man next to him. The two staggered briefly, one of them falling from the strength behind the punch. Even in his completely inebriated, ki-less body, Vegeta's saiyajin durability was impressive. However, he was beyond drunk and disoriented _and_ outnumbered.

Rushing forward again, the wild saiyajin landed punch after punch in one man's face, his broken knuckles bleeding and aching from the damage he inflicted upon himself earlier in the Capsule Corp. bathroom. All the rage and pure hatred for humans came back and he saw the hellish monsters from his nightmares in front of him. The four enclosing shadows were Hikaru, Hal, Rich, and Skip. Even Yamcha's face made an appearance in his delirious vision.

The sound of shattering glass echoed off the dingy, wet, alley walls and Vegeta was on the filthy ground before he could fathom what had happened. His skull ached and when he reached a hand back, his fingers grazed jagged shards sticking from his scalp. Growling with fury, the small saiyajin attempted to rise before all four men began attacking him; kicking, punching, and holding him down.

Flailing and screaming, Vegeta kicked out and swung blindly at the hazy images before him. But he was far too intoxicated to protect himself…and a small part of him welcomed the beating. Feeling a large hand grip his throat, Vegeta's bleeding lips parted into what many would mistake as an agonized grimace, but was actually a satisfied grin. Yes…let the humans finish what they started. Let these four thugs complete the task Krillin had been too cowardly to accomplish almost two years ago when Vegeta first landed on Earth. Let the Neanderthals breaking his ribs and choking the life from him fix the wish that had brought him back to life on Namek.

_Please, you mindless animals, bring me back to where I was earlier today…dead and rotting and ready for the afterlife. _

Vegeta's swollen eyes were closed and his mouth was filled with coppery blood when he realized the men were no longer surrounding him. The alley-way lit with blinding energy and the broken saiyajin could see the red glow through his purpled eyelids. There were screams of pain and panicked voices. A shrill sound of ki echoed throughout the small space and then all was quiet. Vegeta lay silently in the cold wetness of the dark, haunting alley and he wished that the blood seeping from his body would move quicker, allowing him to slip into unconsciousness.

But alas, his cold flesh felt the shaking fingers press against the side of his throat. Past the heartbeat thudding loudly in his ears, Vegeta could hear the scared, anxious breathing above him. Even though he was horribly drunk and beaten senseless, his saiyajin nose was sharp enough to know that scent…and his stomach lurched violently.

"Just…let me die," he whispered.

There was a sharp intake of breath and the fingers slid away. The silence in the alley stretched on, but Vegeta knew _he_ was still there. That smell—the odor of human sweat and testosterone. The man's scent was not a bad one and something struck the ailing prince as he remembered that essence as one of comfort and protection. Yes, he recalled pressing his face into the warrior's chest and breathing in deeply, his body more damaged and broken than it had ever been, but all he wanted was to crush his nose into Yamcha's shirt and inhale…to feel that power and source of safety.

With Yamcha so close to his vulnerable, barely conscious body, Vegeta knew he should have been terrified, yet all of his anger seemed to wash away. Vegeta felt no vengeance against the human, even though he wanted to destroy the planet. For the first time since the whole ordeal, Yamcha and Vegeta were together again…in very similar circumstances. And Vegeta felt oddly comforted by that fact.

"I'm sorry," Yamcha whispered. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm so fucking sorry I can't…I can't even stand it. Nothing will ever make this right!" he rasped. Vegeta could hear the tears choking in his throat. "Vegeta, please don't give up on us. Don't give up on the humans who want to help you. Bulma, the others…they all mean well. They want to help you. None of us will ever hurt you again."

Vegeta still lay silently on the blood-stained ground, but finally pried his eyes open. One was covered in a film of red and the other was purely blurred—whether from the alcohol or from injury he could not tell. Letting his head fall sideways, he gazed at the legs kneeling at his side. Yamcha was wearing the same black pants…same white shirt, too. He hadn't even changed or showered from the day's awful adventures.

Forcing his black eyes upward, Vegeta found it hard to look into Yamcha's pained, guilt-ridden face. He thanked the gods that his vision was so blurred and shaky. He could not stand to see pity in anyone's eyes when it was directed toward him…but he knew it was there. Vegeta didn't know what to say or do, though. He understood that the idiot human would never leave him there to freeze and bleed to death, but there was no way he was going to ask the human for help. Closing his eyes as a wave of nausea passed through him, Vegeta sighed.

"Do what you want, human."

Goku was standing several blocks away from the scene and Yamcha knew the powerful warrior was there, watching with curious eyes as he stood atop a building. If the earth saiyajin hadn't followed him, Yamcha knew he would have killed the men beating the hell out of Vegeta. Yamcha had never killed in cold blood. He never took an innocent life. But the stress of the day and his wild emotions made him want to rip apart the thugs who laughed and roared with amusement as they choked the defenseless alien on the ground and kicked his unprotected ribs and stomach.

But he only allowed his energy to push the men away. Punching a couple of them was pleasing, but Yamcha wanted to kill them, not give them a light punishment. Goku had been watching, though. Besides, he was so close to Vegeta now. And the saiyajin was done fighting against the ones who wanted to hurt him. He was done trying to stand up and look strong. He was done living. It tore at Yamcha's heart to see him lying on the ground, completely still as his bloodied face appeared calm…accepting. _Do what you want, human._ He was giving Yamcha permission to help him, not because he wanted the comfort…but because he was just finished fighting back.

Gathering Vegeta into his arms, Yamcha's red aura flared around them and he blasted into the night sky. The season was getting colder and as the icy wind whipped across his face, Yamcha drew his heated energy tighter to his body, doing his best to shield the disoriented saiyajin in his arms.

Goku appeared next to his long-time friend, his worried eyes peering at Vegeta's resting features. Even with his mind tracking Vegeta's location within the city, he hadn't been able to sense the prince's power fluctuate, as he barely held any energy within his weakened body. Having only been away from Capsule Corp. for about two hours, the surly alien had found trouble, and more guilt crashed upon Goku as he wasn't there to protect the defenseless being.

"What are we going to do, Goku?" Yamcha asked grimly as they flew toward Capsule Corporation.

The third-class saiyajin shook his head slowly and gazed out into the night sky, his sharp eyes landing on the domed headquarters of Bulma's home.

"All we can do is be there for him," Goku replied softly.

Reaching the front yard, the warriors watched as Bulma immediately rushed out to greet them, her hair damp from a shower and a large coat bundled around her thin form. "Oh my God, what happened to him?"

Her large eyes examined the cuts and bruises on his face. As she drew closer, she could smell alcohol wafting from his prone form. Grimacing suddenly, Vegeta's hazy eyes opened and he struggled in Yamcha's arms. His world spun and a kaleidoscope of tilting, concerned faces stared down at him.

"I can stand—put me down."

With a sense of urgency, the pained saiyajin pulled himself free of Yamcha's grip and wobbled uneasily before taking a few lurching strides forward. He bent over the grass and groaned in pain as splintering agony spiked through his broken and cracked ribs. It felt as if his body was being tugged to the ground and his bleary eyes tried to focus on the bushes that lined the huge mansion's grounds. But even the shrubbery seemed to be spiraling in a tilt-a-whirl of movement and Vegeta stilled momentarily, seemingly calming himself, before vomiting the night's beverages all over the lawn.

Goku's mouth stretched into an expression of childish disgust and Bulma and Yamcha gasped in surprise. It was alarming to see the usually proud and arrogant saiyajin exhibiting such behavior, but what really shocked them was the amount of alcohol he was expelling.

"Kami, he must have emptied the entire bar," Bulma murmured, a hint of fascination in her voice.

They allowed the small warrior to finish his sickness before approaching carefully. Vegeta peered down at the soggy mess at his feet and slowly wiped his mouth, before tilting his head to the side as he squinted into the brightly lit window of Capsule Corp.'s living room. Three or four astonished faces quickly disappeared from view and Vegeta growled in annoyance.

"Vegeta, you need a senzu bean," Goku said hurriedly. "We have no idea how much internal damage you have."

Placing a hand on the trembling saiyajin's shoulder, Goku tried to pull the agitated man toward him and into the house, but the stubborn warrior refused to move.

"No. No senzu beans. I don't need them or want them!"

"But…you're hurt again and—"

"Fuck off, Kakarot!" Vegeta yelled as he spun around to dislodge Goku's hand. The action threw Vegeta off-balance and he twirled to the ground clumsily. Sitting pathetically in the grass, the defeated saiyajin stared miserably, his swollen eyelids blinking slowly. "I don't want a damn senzu bean. Just let me sleep. Let me go to sleep."

Goku looked like he wanted to argue more, but Yamcha shook his head. Keeping his distance, the scarred man pushed his hands into his pockets.

"Do you want us to help you into the house?"

Vegeta didn't respond as he sat quietly in the grass, his back hunched and bloody hands resting on his thighs. Taking one glance at him, anyone could see that something terrible had happened to the man. His usually fiery eyes were dead and dark circles hollowed-out his eyelids. Cuts and dark bruises marred his face and his usual upsweep of black hair was frazzled and hanging low. No one would have recognized him as the powerful saiyajin who had invaded Earth a year and a half ago or faced Frieza on Namek.

The three surrounding him glanced at each other with worry as the silence stretched on, the broken fighter still sitting like a ragdoll in the middle of the Capsule Corp. lawn. A couple of minutes passed before Goku crept forward and knelt next to the unmoving saiyajin. Vegeta's dark eyelids were closed and his breathing was heavy. He was asleep.


	7. Return to the World

_*Thank you for reading. Thank you to the 6-7 people who are reviewing! :D_

….

They were back in the infirmary. Goku held Vegeta's sleeping form upright on the hospital bed as Bulma and Dr. Briefs carefully combed through the prince's thick head of hair, their tweezers clinking against the shards of glass they found embedded in his scalp. Quietly the scientists worked, their hands steady as they tended to Vegeta's external injuries. A small metal pan rested near the bed holding various pieces of glass of all shapes and sizes, the tips of them coated in blood. Vegeta never even roused during the entire ordeal.

"He passed out, but I fear he may have alcohol poisoning," Dr. Briefs said calmly as he examined a tiny pebble of glass between his tweezers. "If he was vomiting as much as you said he was, I want to keep him here to monitor him."

"He's not going to like waking up in here," Bulma replied. "Is there any way we can allow him to stay in his room with observation?"

Dr. Briefs gave a simple nod. He could hear the curtness in his daughter's voice and felt his own aggravation with her attitude rising. She still blamed him for keeping Vegeta's energy trapped inside even though she understood and agreed. The fact that the saiyajin had returned to Capsule Corp. _again_ in serious condition somehow made Bulma's anger focus directly on Dr. Briefs.

"After I get a good look at any possible internal injuries and bandage his abrasions and lacerations, we can set him up in his room with intravenous rehydration," the shaggy-haired doctor explained. "I imagine he has not had any fluids in his system for some time."

Goku and Yamcha glanced at each other, unsure what to make of the medical jargon, but both Bulma and Dr. Briefs seemed exceptionally calm—possibly even too cool for the situation at hand. In only an hour, the doctor had patched-up Vegeta and the saiyajin was sleeping soundly in his room, an IV in his left arm and a bag of water already completely depleted into his exhausted body. Goku had changed Vegeta into loose fitting clothes on his own, as Yamcha felt extremely uncomfortable with such a personal chore. The thought of even helping undress the unconscious prince made his stomach twist and mind reel with nightmarish memories.

Dr. Briefs was busily attaching a new bag of fluid to Vegeta's IV as he counted off the saiyajin's new injuries. "He's a tough cookie even without his powers. He has two cracked ribs and one that is broken. Luckily the broken tip did not perforate his lung. No internal bleeding, but he has deep tissue bruising and a few strained tendons. The cuts on his face will heal on their own and the glass pieces from the broken bottle have been removed from his scalp. He has some serious damage to knuckles on both hands, however. There are some broken bones there. Now all we need to focus on is his dehydration and possible alcohol poisoning, but he is strong. He'll be back to his cranky old self in about two days."

"But what about his power?" Goku blurted. His innocent face was strained with tension. "Yamcha got hit with the same stuff and is back to normal. Why isn't Vegeta's energy back?"

Bulma's stomach sank and she glanced at her father. She couldn't look Goku in the face and lie to him—not the nicest and most trusting person she knew. Dr. Briefs appeared calm, though and flicked the bag of water dangling above Vegeta's bed. The pouch was already halfway drained.

"I imagine that Vegeta may have experienced an overdose of the chemical that Skip concocted. Although it was originally created by Bulma, we have no idea what Skip Sato-Jenkins did to it when it was in his hands."

Bulma's large eyes stared, unblinking, as her father smoothly lied to the savior of Earth. Her heart was racing as disgust washed over her. What were she and her father becoming?

"You're saying Skip may have tampered with the solution?" Yamcha asked, his voice wavering as anger filled him. "That sick fuck. They probably weren't even keeping track of how much they were dosing him—Kami, they may have damaged his powers for good!"

Bulma moved toward her distraught boyfriend and wrapped her arm around his muscular waist. He was standing at Vegeta's bedside, peering down at his bandaged and bruised face. Dr. Briefs remained quiet and brought forth another bag of electrolyte solution as the previous one ran out of fluid.

"His powers will come back," Bulma said forcefully, her eyes narrowing as she gazed at her father's back.

Yamcha flinched suddenly and Bulma stared up at her handsome man's shocked face. "I wonder if that microchip has something to do with it."

At this, Dr. Briefs froze momentarily before resuming his doctoral duties. Bulma drew away from the strong fighter, afraid that her pounding heart would give away the fear and shame gnawing at her soul. When no one said anything, Yamcha continued.

"Skip created this awful device that focused Vegeta's energy toward a microchip implanted in his abdomen. With a remote control, he could set it to a certain level, forcing Vegeta's energy to expand outward from inside himself. It…it charred his insides and he—I—"

"Yamcha…" Goku gasped sympathetically.

"We removed it."

Bulma's face burned with anger as she stared at her father. She wanted to scream to everyone in the room that it was still inside of the prince, that Bulma herself had re-designed it in a matter of hours to keep Vegeta's energy trapped. She wanted to fall at Goku's feet and beg him for help, to give her some sort of guidance on what to do. But she held her tongue. Her eyes burned and her throat clenched as her father casually explained to Yamcha and Goku how he had seen the microchip while they were operating on Vegeta and simply plucked it from his system. So, no, it wasn't the chip holding back his powers either.

"And now I think its best that he rests for the night. I'm sure once he sleeps and gets some food in his stomach, he will start regaining his strength and powers," Dr. Briefs explained as he ushered Goku and Yamcha out the door.

"I'll meet you in a second," Bulma told her boyfriend as he glanced back into the room. After giving him a supporting nod, the blue-haired genius turned to her short father. "What is this? Outright lying now?"

Holding his hands to calm his irate daughter, the man in the lab coat sighed. "The anger Vegeta portrayed tonight has simply proven that he is out of control," Dr. Briefs explained as if speaking to a young child. "My dear, let him acclimate to this home. Let him come to terms with what happened to him and then we will slowly release his energy bit-by-bit. I know you feel terrible, as do I, but my number one concern is you and your mother."

"And your company," Bulma hissed as her head dropped to the floor. She had never felt so angry with her father before.

"Patience, Bulma. Patience."

With an annoyed huff at being told what to do, the woman marched from Vegeta's immaculately clean room and met Yamcha in the hallway, leaving the doctor alone in the prince's presence. Peering through his thick glasses, Dr. Briefs sighed again as he observed Vegeta's bruises and bandages.

"What _are_ we going to do with you?"

…..

It was getting quite late and the fighters of earth were restless. The entire day had been one odd revelation after another and many of them just wanted to return home and be done with the situation altogether.

"I think I'll hang out here, though, just in case there are problems," Goku said as he stretched his back and yawned.

"Honestly, Goku, he has no power-level and he's injured. I think we can handle it," Bulma replied.

Gohan sat up from the couch and rubbed his eyes. It was almost 12:30 in the morning and the boy was beyond stressed from everything that had happened. "Yeah, Dad. Can we go? Mom's going to worry."

Frowning, the powerful saiyajin stroked his chin and then shrugged. He always liked the idea of being around Vegeta, even at the prince's worst moments. There was something about the volatile warrior that intrigued Goku and he found that he was more interested in Vegeta's personality than his own wife's. But the pleading look in Gohan's troubled eyes spoke volumes and Goku understood that it was time to bring the boy home. Piccolo decided to depart with them.

Tien and Krillin felt no urge to stay, the entire situation making them feel uncomfortable and downright disturbed. They wanted to be nowhere near the saiyajin prince when he awoke in a hung-over, enraged state. So that just left Yamcha and Bulma standing alone in the living room.

"I think we can just check on him in shifts," Bulma said. "If you're ok with it, that is. I don't know how you're feeling about Vegeta right now."

Yamcha blinked and stared down at his lovely girlfriend. Her eyes were imploring and he knew she wanted to drill him for the details of what was rushing through his mind at the moment.

"That's fine. I'm comfortable keeping an eye on him. I owe it to him to help in any way I can."

Feeling anxious with Bulma's probing stare, Yamcha quickly walked away, his feet carrying him to the stairs.

"I don't know the specific details," Bulma's soft voice called after him, halting him on the first step, "but you were assaulted, too, Yamcha. Your actions may have hurt Vegeta, but you were a victim just as much as he was."

With a soft, dead laugh, Yamcha placed his large hand on the banister of the stairs, steadying himself. Without turning around, the human just shook his head and closed his eyes, his mind flashing back to Vegeta's screaming, terror-stricken face as Yamcha's energy burned him from the inside.

"Just as much as he was?" He repeated with a small voice. Glancing over his shoulder, his sad eyes gazed at Bulma. "I was the one with the power. I was the one who could have stopped it somehow. I almost killed him, Bulma. I brutally destroyed his body because I refused to listen to him. My suffering was nowhere near as bad as his. I'm …I'm sorry," he finished, unsure if he was apologizing to Bulma or Vegeta.

The Capsule Corp. heiress watched her love disappear up the stairs and, once again, felt a tearing at her heart for both Yamcha and Vegeta. How were they ever going to get through this?

….

Dr. Briefs, Bulma, and Yamcha took turns watching Vegeta's slumbering form throughout the night. It was a daunting and boring task, but none of them complained or even felt annoyed. The distraught saiyajin would whimper or shiver as he slept and Dr. Briefs would then check his vitals. It had only been hours earlier that Vegeta was wrenched violently from his death in a brutal fashion—no assistance from the dragon balls or Dende's healing light. His body was beyond exhausted and now had to deal with injuries sustained during his fight as well as immense amounts of alcohol.

It was early morning when the sunlight decided to stream through the parted blinds in Vegeta's room. Dozing for a few minutes longer, the saiyajin twitched as the sharp light rested on half of his face. He felt out-of-sorts upon waking, his bleary vision resting on the cream-colored ceiling of the Capsule Corp. bedroom. The scent was familiar. This was _his_ room. However, his saiyajin senses picked up another smell that was immediately recognizable.

Vegeta's head snapped to the side and his body turned to stone as his black eyes landed on the sleeping figure next to his bed. A wave of vertigo passed through him and Vegeta felt hot saliva rising in his mouth. Frantically, he pushed the bed sheets away from his trembling body and let out a terrified gasp as his hand brushed the needle in his arm. Poison. The solution. They were trapping him again!

Through his clouded, panic-stricken mind, Vegeta registered that Yamcha had woken up. Without even glancing at the man, the sick alien tore the needle from his arm, the IV flying across the room with a spray of blood. Yamcha's voice was speaking, but all Vegeta knew was that he had to get away. He had been unconscious and had awakened to find the powerful human guarding him in his sleep. The thought made Vegeta's stomach clench with nausea.

Trying to free himself from the bed, Vegeta's legs wobbled and his world spun. A terrible headache pounded through his skull and he gagged as acid burned his throat. Strong hands grabbed his shoulders and Vegeta screamed, his eyes wide and unseeing. Thrashing in Yamcha's arms, the small saiyajin growled and yelled deliriously before wrenching forward and vomiting on the clean, glossy floor. Yamcha released the feverish saiyajin and stood, giving the prince his space to breathe.

As Vegeta vomited a second time, Dr. Briefs and Bulma made their way into the room, having heard the commotion a few rooms down. A very worried Panchi stood in the doorway, her dainty hand pressed against her quivering lips as she watched the fallen warrior trying to regain his senses on the floor.

Vegeta leaned tiredly against the side of his bed, his sweat-soaked hair falling before his face as he panted and shivered. His skin was ghostly white and his eyes were closed. Dr. Briefs quickly pressed a bandage against the bleeding hole in Vegeta's arm and rolled some gauze lightly around the injection-site. Bulma pressed a cool, wet rag against his forehead and face, dabbing at the sweat and saliva around his mouth.

"He just woke up and freaked out," Yamcha murmured as he watched the two scientists aid the saiyajin prince. "He…he pulled the IV out and…"

"It's ok, Yamcha," Dr. Briefs replied gently. "Vegeta is recovering from being highly intoxicated last night. He's not fully in his mind."

Vegeta moaned as pain lanced through his head. He felt awful.

"Don't talk like I'm not here," Vegeta rasped. His breath had slowed and was now heavy as his head dropped forward. "What the hell is…_he_ doing here?" the agitated saiyajin hissed to the two surrounding him.

Bulma hesitated and tilted her head. Of course, Vegeta probably didn't remember much of what happened last night.

"After you got into your little bar fight, Yamcha and Goku brought you back."

Vegeta's heart began to beat faster at the thought and he felt anxious as he could not recall his night-time adventures. He remembered being dragged into an alley-way, and something rang a bell when Bulma mentioned a fight…but he could not remember anything else. Yamcha and Kakarot brought him back to Capsule Corp.? He simply did not have a single memory of this and it made him terribly uncomfortable. To him, this was the first time he had seen Yamcha since…

"Why is he in my room?"

Patiently, Bulma recounted the tale to Vegeta after he was found in the alley. Yamcha picked him up and carried him back home, he puked a tremendous amount of booze all over the front lawn, and then fell asleep outside.

'_He touched me_,' Vegeta thought coldly. Shivering again, the saiyajin curled in on himself slightly.

"It may take some time to get your body heat back up again," Dr. Briefs suddenly cut in, thinking that Vegeta's actions were directed to illness alone. "All you will need is some good rest, relaxation, and some food in your belly. You will feel in tip-top shape in no time."

Bulma rolled her eyes at her father's attempt to lighten the situation. Her stomach sank, though, as Yamcha made his way around the bed to stand a couple of feet away from Vegeta. The angry saiyajin on the ground continued to glare a hole into the floor.

"Vegeta…last night I apologized to you. I know you don't remember it, but I really, really need you to understand that I cannot say sorry enough. Please, please believe me when I say—"

"Shut up, fool," Vegeta snapped. Dr. Briefs and Bulma quickly finished cleaning the floor and tending to the surly saiyajin's wounds and injuries. Anger radiated from his shaking form and Dr. Briefs stood and retreated to the door where his wife stood silently, a safe distance from the dangerous saiyajin. Bulma, however, remained at the prince's side.

Glaring up at Yamcha for the first time, Vegeta pushed hair from his face and captured Yamcha's pleading eyes. The two stared at each other, the saiyajin's black irises holding the human in place.

"A simple sorry will never make this right," Vegeta hissed darkly. "You do not have permission to ever touch me again—to ever be near me!" Standing, the muscular warrior placed his hand on the mattress at his side, trying to be discreet that he had to use it to keep his balance.

Yamcha lowered his eyes in shame a looked away. "I deserve all your anger. I deserve your hatred. Please, take whatever rage you have for humans and earth out on me. I…I'll even lower my power so you—"

The IV stand that had been next to Vegeta's bed was suddenly flung across the room, the speed surprising Yamcha. With a shocked yelp, the human dodged the contraption and backed away as the fuming prince charged him.

"Oh, you'll do me a little favor and lower your power-level so I can beat you up a bit?" Vegeta sneered, his hunched body backing Yamcha against the wall. "How chivalrous! Let the powerless little monkey-prince get some pity shots in to help ease your conscience, huh?!"

Blushing brilliantly, Yamcha stared down at the shorter fighter, understanding suddenly how condescending he had been. Here Vegeta was with absolutely zero ki, no strength to fight, and trapped on a planet full of humans whom he perceived as the enemy, and Yamcha had degraded him with his thoughtless words. But even through his humiliation, he realized how close Vegeta was to him. In his fury, the quaking saiyajin drew so near that they were face-to-face. Yamcha sweated and locked eyes with the enraged fighter, his expression full of guilt and embarrassment.

"I-I'm sorry," Yamcha whispered.

Suddenly aware of their space, Vegeta's eyes widened and he stepped back, his face turning away while a red blush crawled up his neck, as well. Bulma stood from her spot on the ground, her scientist mind racing as she observed the awkward interaction. The two went from heated emotions to sudden embarrassment as they realized how close their bodies came to touching. It was if their shared nightmarish experience had entered their minds at the exact same time.

"Yamcha, go wait out in the hallway," Bulma said lightly.

Blinking, the black-haired warrior nodded, his face still staring into the ground with shame. Trudging past the Briefs, Yamcha disappeared through the doorway, glad to be away from the heated room. Bulma gazed at the still saiyajin who remained rooted on spot, his eyes tracking the ground as if seeing his own thoughts.

"Come back to your bed, Vegeta," Bulma suggested. When the sullen creature didn't move, the haughty scientist blew a strand of wavy hair from her face and seated herself on the mattress. "If you get some rest and some food in your system, I have a feeling your energy will start returning. Torturing your body is probably what's making your powers remain subdued."

"What would you know?" Vegeta snapped as he crossed his arms and stared at the blank wall in front of him.

"I know that my dad and I can help you. If you let us, we can figure out the problem and get your powers back."

"Oh? So I can just go on my way and destroy Earth?"

Panchi gasped and Dr. Briefs placed a supporting hand on his wife's shoulder. Bulma let a small smile settle on her lips as her feet rested on the bent IV stand on floor.

"You won't destroy Earth."

"And why is that?" Vegeta demanded, fully turning his attention to the blue-haired harpy sitting on _his _bed. She simply held a knowing smile on her lips and he could see the deep intelligence behind the innocent blue eyes.

"Because you are a saiyajin who strives on power and challenges. You would never destroy this planet while everyone was asleep or unknowing. No, you're the type of warrior who will only fight your enemies face-to-face, to prove your real strength," she explained. When Vegeta's eyebrows lowered in confusion, she chuckled and shook her head like it was the easiest idea in the world. "You would never blow-up a planet without defeating Goku first. There's no point destroying humans or the planet because you would have to fight Goku. You need power to do that!"

"And you're going to help me do that?" Vegeta sneered. "You and your father are going to help me get my powers back so I can kill your best friend?"

Dr. Briefs was about to speak up, but Bulma shrugged her shoulders and grinned. "As long as you're not a total asshole to everyone at Capsule Corp., sure we'll help you! I honestly don't think that you would kill us even if you did defeat Goku, though."

"And why is that?"

Bulma gazed at him, tilting her head to the side in deep thought. Vegeta suddenly felt vulnerable under the knowing stare and quickly became annoyed.

"I just don't think you will," she replied. "I think you're better than that. I think…you are the one to prove that saiyajins can be trusted…far more than most humans."

Bulma pretended that she didn't see the spark go off in Vegeta's head at the words. She hopped off his bed and picked up the medical supplies he had hurled at Yamcha. Brushing past his muscular form, Bulma winked at her parents and called over her shoulder—

"I'm going to have Mom whip up a ton of food. We'll be back in about a half hour and I'll want to see you in that bed, Mister!"

Vegeta's mouth fell open at the demanding, pompous woman, but he had nothing to say in return. Crossing his arms, he remained standing in his soft hospital shirt and shorts as the small family unit left, closing the door behind them. He could not fathom why the woman who had created the ki-barring solution in the first place was now trying to help him. She was a human…which obviously meant she was dangerous. However…she wasn't treating him like an invalid child. In fact, there appeared to be no pity within her at all. She certainly did not appear malicious, and unlike Kakarot and that scum, Yamcha, who treated him like a fragile, broken creature, she spoke to him on level terms.

Eyeing his bed, the saiyajin prince growled in annoyance before climbing back onto the mattress and snuggling into the comforter.

"It's only because I want to be in bed," he hissed to himself. "Not because she told me."


	8. Teaching Trust

_Warnings for this chapter: Some M/F romance, PTSD, flashbacks to rape_

…..

It took a lot of coaxing to get Vegeta to eat the food that was presented to him. Even though his mouth watered and his stomach growled so loudly Panchi shrieked with laughter, the saiyajin merely crossed his arms and slouched down into his bed, pouting like a child.

"Lamb, turkey legs, beef stew, potatoes, fried rice…" Bulma counted off the various steaming, delectable entrees and sides that had been wheeled into Vegeta's room. "All of it for you."

Sniffing arrogantly, the weakened prince closed his eyes and turned his face away. He refused to be tricked by the earthlings again even though he hadn't eaten anything in almost three days.

"I did not see you prepare it," Vegeta snapped angrily. "It's probably glazed in poison and stuffed full of your horrid energy-destroying solution."

Bulma groaned loudly and snatched a chicken strip. Chomping into it hungrily, she waved the fried meat at him and spoke through a mouthful of food. "If we wanted to kill you, you'd already be a goner, Vegeta. We had plenty of opportunities to let you die within the past couple of days."

Black eyes snapped to blue and Bulma felt herself freeze under the deadly glare. Vegeta's chest rose as he breathed deeply and took in the woman before him. He scanned her face and body, noting that the finger-mark bruises around her throat and neck were still very much present from when he attacked her.

"That's why you're doing all this for me," the black-haired saiyajin growled, "to absolve your guilt for creating that awful concoction in the first place. If it hadn't been for your stupidity, I wouldn't have been…"

He trailed off and glared down at his hands. His bandaged fingers were gripping the bed sheet in his lap tightly and the muscles in his arms bulged as a fiery anger burned within him. The stillness in the room became somber as Bulma realized the saiyajin prince was struggling with his flashbacks. Shaky hands moved toward his and hesitated before settling gently on his broken knuckles. Vegeta's eyes widened, but he did not look up to face Bulma.

"I created that chemical when I invited you and the Namekians to Capsule Corporation after the battle on Namek. It was a precaution in case you had plans to hurt my family or earth," the blue-haired beauty explained calmly. "You immediately proved me wrong and I knew we would never have to use it. I locked it away and never looked back. I…I had no idea that the leading scientist who had helped me invent it…was such a monster. No one at Capsule Corp. had any idea that Skip had created his own solution and would use it for such evil."

She traced her finger along a bandage on Vegeta's hand. "I'm so sorry this happened to you, Vegeta. I'm helping you because, yes, it is my fault that your powers were used against you. I'm also helping you because that's what we do here." Bulma gazed up at her father for a moment before peering into Vegeta's solemn face. "We're _all_ going to help you recover your strength and your energy."

The saiyajin prince sighed and shook his head, pulling his hand out of Bulma's light grip. The intimate touch made him uncomfortable and he had no idea how to deal with the emotions. His entire life, every living creature he had ever met betrayed him or hurt him in some way. The moment he let his guard down, even his closest allies made their move and pounced on his weakness. He knew better than to fall for this woman's soft words and endearing eyes.

"Just the same," he replied darkly, "I'll end up killing you all."

A high-pitched whimper resonated throughout the room and Dr. Briefs had to quickly usher his wailing wife from the vicinity. Bulma let a sad smile come to her lips and she stood, not realizing that she had been sitting on the edge of Vegeta's bed. Pulling the tray of food closer, Bulma snagged one more chicken strip from the gigantic platter.

"Well, you better start eating if you're going to gather the strength to kill everyone," she chirped. And without a word, Vegeta obeyed.

…

The next day, Dr. Briefs met his daughter in her lab as she tinkered with one of the energy boxes used for the company back-up generator. Humming to herself, she didn't even notice the short man standing behind her until he lit a cigarette.

"Jeez, Dad!" Bulma hollered as she spun around and dropped her screwdriver. "Giving me a heart attack?"

But the man did not return the cheery demeanor. Puffing on the cigarette, the mousy scientist stood before his daughter, one hand in his lab coat side-pocket and the other replacing the pack of Mevius smokes in his front pocket.

"I am unsure that we should allow Vegeta to regain any of his power."

Bulma simply stared at her father as he stood calmly before her, a cloud of smoke shooting from his nose as he sighed. Blinking, Bulma's mouth dropped open and she bent down to grab her screwdriver. With a shake of her head, she pointed the tool at the little man before letting out an annoyed shriek.

"Why? Why? Because you don't like him?"

Dr. Briefs let out an outraged stammer and held out his hands as if it was the simplest idea in the world. "He has threatened to kill us, Bulma!"

"Oh Kami, he did that even before this whole situation," she sniffed with a wave of her hand. Sitting on the edge of her desk, the genius woman went back to work as if her father wasn't there.

"Bulma! This is serious. He had your mother in tears yesterday. Even after you poured your heart out to him he merely told you he was going to kill you without a thought."

Hurling the screwdriver against one of the large windows to the right of her desk, Bulma squeezed her eyes shut as the glass cracked. Feeling burning tears forming, the enraged woman clenched her fists and held back a sob.

"I'm not going to hear another word of this!" Bulma roared. "I absolutely refuse to keep Vegeta a prisoner. Like you said, little-by-little I am going to release his power. I'm going to let that saiyajin have what is rightfully his: his Life! And daddy, you're not going to keep him caged. It's my fault this happened to him and I'm going to make it right again!"

The doctor opened his mouth to say more, but Bulma stormed past him and exited her lab. Several workers scattered as the woman barreled through, many of them having seen Bulma Briefs throw epic tantrums in the past. She marched upstairs and into the main living quarters of Capsule Corp., her feet leading her directly to the place she wanted to be.

Without knocking, Bulma barged into Vegeta's room, her heart racing and brain buzzing with thought. She had never yelled at her father like that. She had never felt so strongly toward anything or anyone like she did at that moment.

"Is knocking no longer a custom on this wretched planet?"

Blinking herself from the fury of emotions, Bulma peered around the room as if waking from a dream. Vegeta appeared to be climbing from his bed, his shirt off and bandages wrapped tightly around his ribs. He was gripping the bed post and eyeing her cautiously. She could see the strain the simple movement was having on him as he attempted to rise.

"Do you…need help?" she asked, unsure what to say as she had just invaded his room.

"Of course not! I'm not some weakling, like—have you been crying?"

Bulma's face turned a brilliant shade of red and she scrubbed her eyes with the back of her wrist. Vegeta's dark gaze lingered on her and humiliation kept her cemented to the ground.

"No, NO!" she said a little too loudly. "There were some chemicals down in the lab. I'm sensitive to certain vapors and it makes my eyes a little teary and—" her following words ended with a gasping sob. Completely humiliated, Bulma wept into her hands and she shook her head as her world crumbled around her. She was crying. Bulma Briefs was crying... in the middle of Vegeta's room directly in front of the arrogant prince himself!

"I got into a fight with daddy and I feel so guilty about this whole thing and I just want to make it better!"

Vegeta's mouth hung agape as he watched the usually loud-mouthed, haughty person cry hysterically before his very eyes. He had seen people cry at his feet in the past…but it was always because he was about to kill them. He honestly had no idea what to do about the Capsule Corp. heiress's beak-down. So, he just remained sitting on the edge of his bed, his wide eyes looking over his shoulder at the woman in the grey industrial jumpsuit.

"I feel sick with the thought that my creation could do such horrible things to someone. I've never felt so guilty." Bulma sniffled and wiped away her remaining tears.

"Dear God, please let this end soon," Vegeta whispered to the ceiling.

No one had ever used him as a shoulder to cry on. It was beyond uncomfortable and the saiyajin prince wished so badly that he could throw open the balcony windows and fly away from the awful situation at hand. Maybe he could just leap off the balcony anyway and end it all right there.

Glancing at the woman calming herself, Vegeta was at a loss for words for the first time in his life. Bulma felt guilty. Bulma felt guilty for hurting _him_. No one ever cried for him or appeared so distressed for his pain (except Yamcha). These humans unnerved him. The Bulma woman was either a phenomenal actress or she truly felt sympathy and guilt toward his suffering. If that was the case, Vegeta did not know how to respond.

"Vegeta," Bulma murmured. "I have something I need to tell you…"

Craning his head over his shoulder again, the warrior's black irises took in the trembling scientist before him. Her eyes were red and drawn down in shame. Her entire body-language screamed guilt and he was amazed at how the ordinary girl captured his attention.

The words were on the tip of her tongue. Bulma wanted to scream it out for everyone in the area to hear. _'Vegeta, the reason you don't have your power back is because my dad and I reprogrammed the microchip in your stomach to tie down your ki. That chip that electrocuted your insides and made you almost die a horrible death? Yeah, I have control over it now.'_

The fear was too great and Bulma swallowed down the terror. A voice in the back of her head was screaming at her, demanding that she not tell Vegeta what she had done to him.

"We still have remaining senzu beans," she explained quietly. "Now that you're eating again, I think the senzu beans will probably help bring back your powers. Your body is strong, so…it will most likely break through any remaining damage the solution had on you…and re-ignite your energy."

"I see," Vegeta replied, his voice soft from the unease he felt toward the highly emotional person. "Is that all?"

Bulma glanced at him and then looked away, still too embarrassed that she had completely lost her composure in front of the universe's most dangerous criminal. Nodding, Bulma stuffed her hands in her pockets childishly.

"You can leave then."

Bolting from the room, Bulma sprinted down the hallway, trying to outrun her humiliation. She slammed into her door and ran into her room only to find Yamcha sitting in the large, queen-like chair next to her bed, his glassy eyes staring out the window. Blinking rapidly, Bulma calmed her racing heart and sauntered forward.

Yamcha's dark gaze snapped to her and he attempted a weak smile. Not in the mood for anymore hysterical emotional outbursts, the intelligent woman simply walked around to the front of the chair and sat in the fighter's lap. Yamcha wrapped his arms around her and the two sat silently for some time, not speaking as they inhaled each other's scent. Finally, Bulma moved from the warrior's lap and made her way to her large bed. Unzipping the worker suit from her body, the young genius stood in the middle of the room in a tight, white Capsule Corp. t-shirt and bikini-bottom underwear.

"Come here, Yamcha," she purred.

Peering over the side of the massive chair, the black-haired fighter smiled weakly again, his eyes appearing so old suddenly. Standing slowly, Yamcha pulled the blinds closed and he made his way to his beautiful girlfriend. Running his hands along her wide hips, Yamcha realized that he had no spark of passion. Usually seeing Bulma's scantily clad body made him rock hard in seconds. Yet, now he felt nothing—seemingly dead inside.

Sensing his hesitation, Bulma stood on her toes and leaned in for a kiss, her soft lips pressing against his. Yamcha gathered her gently into his arms and laid her on the bed before pulling off his jeans and shirt. Clad only in his boxers, he leaned over and kissed her again.

*_"That's right. Put on a show for us, hottie."*_

Barely suppressing a gasp, Yamcha's heart pounded in his chest as the room wavered and changed. It suddenly smelled of mildew and he swore he could hear water rushing through pipes above. It seemed so dark in the room and his breath hitched in his throat as he saw four shadows plastered against the far wall of the room. They were watching!

"Are you ok?" Bulma asked softly.

He flinched as her fingers brushed against the scar on his cheek. Nodding frantically, Yamcha squeezed his eyes shut and fought off the images. They were not real. Not anymore. He was safe. He had his powers and he was safe—in Bulma's bedroom and in Bulma's caring arms.

Smiling sensually, Bulma peeled her tight shirt from her body, leaving her pale form clad only in a lacy bra and colorful undies. Forcing himself to focus, Yamcha gazed down at the voluptuous breasts and cupped his love's left cup. Pulling the bra down, the earth warrior licked at the soft skin before massaging Bulma's right breast.

Was something finally stirring below? Yamcha honestly couldn't tell. He felt numb everywhere.

* _"I think he n__eeds a chill pill. __Seriously, get him one or two of those pills to help him relax."__*_

'_Yeah, grab some of those pills from before,_' hissed the voice from earlier. '_It definitely made you get it up for Vegeta. It'll work for Bulma, too!'_

A flash of Vegeta's terrified face suddenly appeared before his eyes, the saiyajin's wide mouth agape as Yamcha's energy melted him from the inside. He hadn't heard the prince's screams because he was in such a state of drug-induced ecstasy, all he felt and wanted was pleasure. Vegeta's agonized begging was ignored completely as Yamcha pounded into him with an energy-charged body. The tear-stained, horrified face of the saiyajin prince slowly faded and was replaced with Bulma's worried expression.

Sitting back, Yamcha shook his head and peered around the room as if seeing it for the first time. Stumbling off the bed, the traumatized fighter pulled his pants and shirt back on.

"I'm sorry. I can't. It's not you…I just need…"

"I understand, Yamcha," Bulma replied quickly as she pulled her comforter around her shoulders. "It's too soon. I was foolish to have pushed you into this."

Feeling guilty now, Yamcha pulled on his shoes, his face full of confusion and pleading. "I just need to go for a while. I'll be back later. I'm sorry."

And with that, the distraught man quickly rushed from Bulma's room. Her large blue eyes followed his retreating form and she sighed. Could the day get any worse?

…..

Two days after her crying fiasco in Vegeta's room and the awkwardness in the bedroom with Yamcha, Bulma stood out in the backyard of Capsule Corp. admiring her work as she gazed up at the huge domed spaceship sitting on the grass. The day the boy from the future came with his haunting story of the androids, Vegeta demanded that her father turn the inner-workings of the spaceship into a gravity simulator. She and her father both worked diligently on creating ki-resistant robots that could deflect the powerful saiyajin's energy right back at him. He had been training at 450 times earth's normal gravity before accidentally blowing up the capsule ship with him inside.

That had only been about three weeks ago, Bulma realized. How things could change so quickly. Upon eating one more senzu bean, Vegeta found Bulma in the kitchen of her home and quickly devoured everything in sight. The bandages were gone and Bulma was happy to see that the saiyajin prince had his healthy tan glow back and lively, albeit angry, eyes once more. He was dressed in training gear and demanded access to the gravity room.

"You just need to wait a few hours, pal," Bulma responded snidely, although she was tickled pink that Vegeta's fiery attitude was back even without his powers. "It hasn't been used in a few days and I need to make sure it's in working order from the damage it sustained when you blew it up."

"I didn't blow it up!" Vegeta snarled as he pointed a finger in her face. "You and your useless father miscalculated my strength. Those bots should have been able to handle my energy!"

"Yeah, yeah."

Truthfully, Bulma wanted to get into the ship before Vegeta did to ensure that he wasn't going to kill himself. She knew the brash saiyajin would push himself to extremes even without his powers. A person of his height and weight with the power level of an average human standing in the middle of the gravity room when it hit even 20-times gravity would be an instant, messy death. And she knew Vegeta was the kind of man who would do such a thing…especially after all that had happened to him. He had to prove that he was strong.

So, Bulma made sure to get into the dome-ship as quickly as possible to rewire the simulator. It would only go to 5-times earth's normal gravity. It was truly a pathetic number for even earth's weakest fighters, however, for a person with hardly any power level, it would be almost impossible to handle.

Bulma was excited, though. She would allow Vegeta to enter and train. She was sure he would be outraged about the pathetic limitations of the simulator, and while he was beating himself up inside, she was going to raise his power-level up about two degrees. The idea of un-caging a portion of Vegeta's energy made the brilliant woman ecstatic—as if a weight was finally being lifted from her guilt-ridden shoulders.

She gave a cheerful wave to the surly fighter as he marched up the ramp and into the ship in his blue shorts and white tank-top. Glowering at her, he merely grunted in response and disappeared into the gravity simulator to start his training after five days of being completely inactive and weakened. With his stress-level through the roof, Vegeta was looking forward to cutting loose and trying to bring his energy back…even if it meant destroying his body and mind.

As the door swung closed, Bulma tittered happily, looking exactly like her mother for a moment before rushing into her giant home. As she made her way to the workers' unit of Capsule Corporation, the blue-haired woman brushed past her happily humming mom as she danced with an armload of laundry.

"I'm so glad to see your smile has returned, dear!" Panchi Briefs quipped.

"Thanks, Mom. How are you doing? I know that you were a little…upset last time you saw Vegeta."

The incredibly happy blonde let out a long sigh and her pale eyebrows arched in distress. "I just can't help feeling sorry for that poor man!"

Bulma blinked, completely startled to hear that response. She was positive her mother had run from the room sobbing because of Vegeta's anger and threats.

"I could just tell he was so alone and betrayed," Panchi continued. "To feel such anger…it must be so exhausting."

Bulma smiled and gave her kind-hearted mom a thumbs-up. Walking past the blonde, Bulma called over her shoulder.

"Don't worry, Mom! Everything is going to be just fine."

Entering the infirmary where Vegeta had first appeared as a ghastly corpse only days earlier, Bulma slid open a cabinet drawer and felt a flutter of excitement as she eyed the gray remote-control sitting within. Pulling the contraption free, Bulma examined it carefully before licking her lips and placing a delicate finger along the protruding knob on the corner of the remote. Smiling hopefully, she turned the control up one degree and stood silently, her heart beating loudly as she waited for something magical to happen. When the silence dragged on, she simply laughed and shrugged before clicking the knob to a second degree, releasing more of Vegeta's power as he trained.

Her eyes lingered over the large green button that would completely unleash the saiyajin's power, but something told her to wait. It was almost like unwrapping a present. Even though Vegeta had no clue that it was she and her father who had control over his ki, Bulma greatly enjoyed the idea of releasing his power little-by-little, to see his excitement grow day-to-day.

With a girlish squeal, she pranced from one foot to the other before replacing the remote back into its drawer. At this moment, Vegeta was probably bursting with delight at his new-found powers. Bulma wasn't exactly sure how much strength he had regained with the control setting, but the scientist was eager to see her work in action.

A couple of hours later, Bulma found herself in the kitchen, having a late lunch as her glazed eyes peered out the window and across the yard. The Capsule ship was still alive and humming, but there were no flashes of light bursting from the small round windows. The ship was not shaking or trembling as it had when Vegeta was at his peak of power. Anxiety gnawed at Bulma's stomach as she wondered if the remote control worked.

However, several minutes later, the lights inside dimmed and the large vertical door slowly lowered onto the ramp. The short saiyajin prince emerged, still dressed in his white top and blue shorts. No blood anywhere, no scrapes or broken bones. His clothes were intact. The warrior looked much different than he usually did when emerging from the gravity simulator.

Bulma readied herself and leaned back in her chair, attempting to look uninterested and cool. As Vegeta marched inside, she noticed that his tan skin was a bit paler than usual and he was sweating quite a lot. He scowled down at her and made his way to the refrigerator.

"So, how'd it go?"

"Why was it only set to—"

The two had spoken over each other and there was an awkward silence. Fishing around in the fridge, Vegeta grabbed a leftover casserole and tossed it onto the table.

"Are you even going to warm it up?" Bulma asked.

Vegeta grunted and sat down with a fork before digging in quickly. "Hungry now." He consumed half of the dish before gazing up at Bulma's curious face. "The gravity could only go up to 5x Earth's normal density."

Crossing her arms, Bulma lifted a blue eyebrow and smirked. "Do you have the energy to handle more than that?"

Vegeta's fists clenched and Bulma saw the bend in the fork in his hand. The saiyajin's line of vision followed hers and he dropped the utensil, the handle crushed to the width of a pencil. With an annoyed grunt, Vegeta quickly stood and Bulma noted with some worry that he wobbled slightly.

"Don't push yourself too hard too fast," she warned. "There's a reason I set the gravity to level 5."

Wheeling around, Vegeta's angry face was immediately in hers. "If I want to crush myself into a bloody pile of flesh, that is my choice! You don't get to keep me fucking caged-up like an animal."

Bulma's face drained of color at the words and her body froze. He was not referring to his own energy or the fact that it was Bulma herself who kept it trapped, but his sharp voice cut into her like a knife.

"That's not what I'm trying to do," she whispered. _Oh yes you are._ "I just want to make sure that you get your energy and powers back in a safe way. Killing yourself won't do you any good."

"You have no right to even speak to me, bitch." He grinned darkly at her and Bulma felt the first real spark of fear at the evil in his eyes. "My power will fully return. I will take care of these androids for your precious planet…and then I'll be the one who destroys everything in the end!"

Spinning on heel, the short, muscled saiyajin stormed from the kitchen, leaving a mess behind for Bulma to pick up. Feeling her heart race, the genius woman felt her previous fear ebb away and slowly transform into anger. The fucking nerve of that man! Throwing away her remaining lunch and returning the half-eaten casserole to the refrigerator, Bulma paced the kitchen like an angry tiger before marching from the room, as well.

Her jaw clenched in outrage, Bulma stood outside Vegeta's room. She tested the door handle to check if it was locked, and of course, it was. However, this was her home and she knew the code to any room in the headquarters.

"I don't care if you're naked in there, I'm coming in!"

Punching a complex code into the outside system, the blue-haired woman entered Vegeta's room, angry words already on her tongue. However, she stopped momentarily as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. A lump lay in the bed motionlessly and Bulma was surprised to see the brash and usually energetic saiyajin asleep so early in the day—and so quickly, too!

Anxiety erased her anger and Bulma cautiously approached the bed. Circling around the mattress, Bulma peered into the sleeping saiyajin's features, noting that he appeared almost pained. His breathing was deep and occasionally a distressed moan escaped his lips. He had been yelling in her face only minutes earlier and now here he was dead to the world! Bulma's eyebrows lowered with concern and she reached a timid hand outward.

Delicate fingers rested on Vegeta's tall forehead and she could feel that he was clammy and warm. His skin was still a bit pale and she wondered if he had truly outdone himself training for so long in the gravity simulator. The scientist in her still ached to know if he had felt any energy return and if so, what were his capabilities?

Groaning as if in pain, Vegeta rolled onto his back, his expression tense and eyebrows pressed together in distress. He was still in his training clothes. He must have had his argument with Bulma and collapsed right into bed immediately after.

His breathing suddenly picked up and his mouth opened as he panted. Bulma watched in awe as pain and fear etched his features and she found she could not look away. She had seen Vegeta talk in his sleep before. Directly after the gravity simulator had exploded, he mumbled and hissed in his coma about defeating Goku. However, this time, she could practically feel the gnawing fear that ate at him.

One hand twisted in the bed sheet and his head tossed side-to-side. His body shivered and jerked and occasionally a soft cry would escape his clenched teeth.

"N….no, no," he whispered.

Bulma hovered over his bed, her eyes wildly observing his actions. Vegeta groaned again and let out a shaky breath. His back arched and Bulma wondered if she should wake him.

"Nnggaahh! Let me go. Please…please…"

Bulma's hand pressed against her heart at the pleading whispers. Sadness held her where she stood and she couldn't stop the hand that gently caressed the side of Vegeta's sweaty, pale cheek. Clenching his teeth again, Vegeta groaned as if experiencing terrible agony. His pained yell startled Bulma and she backed away. The saiyajin prince tossed and turned again, laying on his side as he pressed his face into his pillow. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the sheets with crushing strength and much to Bulma's fascination, his fists began to glow. Faint blue light emanated from Vegeta's hands and the Capsule Corp. heiress could only watch in shock and wonder as the energy grew and danced along the prince's knuckles and fingers.

At this rate, he was going to tear the bed apart. Approaching cautiously, Bulma was afraid to wake him. She didn't know if his power was stable and she certainly didn't know how furious he would be to find that she had broken into his room while he slept. Still, the sheets and pillow were slowly being torn by his ki-lit hands and his whimpering and panting were only increasing.

Taking a chance, Bulma leaned in and brushed her fingernails along Vegeta's flushed cheekbones. Calling his name gently, she patted his right cheek and repeated his name. His cries quieted and she ran her fingers through his feathery hair, surprised by how light and airy the texture was. Nothing like Goku's knotted mane, Vegeta's dark fur was soft to the touch. Her actions seemed to calm him greatly and she scratched her nails delicately along his scalp as if petting a cat.

The blue glow disappeared and Bulma held back a laugh as the saiyajin suddenly nuzzled into his pillow, his face disappearing into the soft fluff as the woman above continued to stroke his hair. He moaned once more, however this sound was full of pleasure. The tension in his eyebrows decreased greatly and Bulma was amazed at how young Vegeta suddenly appeared. Turning his face to the side, the saiyajin's breath calmed considerably and the stress in his body slowly eased. Bulma scratched his head and smiled, her heart fluttering at how innocent he looked—how incredibly handsome he was.

Vegeta's mouth parted slightly and he let out a pleased sigh, his sleeping form pressing into Bulma's hand appreciatively. Drawing away slowly, Bulma ran her fingers along his cheek one more time before she turned and left the room. Bulma suddenly had a feeling that she had done something dirty or traitorous as her thoughts immediately trailed to Yamcha. Peering one more time at Vegeta's sleeping form, she heaved a baffled sigh and walked away, making sure to lock the door behind her.


End file.
